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CAPE  CURREY 


BY 
RENE  JUTA 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

1920 


Copyright,  1920 

BY 

Henry  Holt  and  Company 


TO 

MY  FATHER 

SIR  HENRY  JUTA,  Kt. 

JUDGE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  SUPREME 
COURTS  OF  THE  CAPE  PROVINCE 


4CDiu'J 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    Miss  Georgiana  Hears  Some  Plain  Eng- 
lish     I 

II     Chaste    Conversation    Tempered    with 

Fear  in  the  Heerengracht  ....     12 

III  How,  in  a  Garden,  a  Secret  Was  Kept 

From  the  World 31 

IV  An  Interview  in  a  Vineyard,  Which  Re- 

sults IN  Many  Suspicions     ....     46 

V    The  Governor  Explains  the  Motto  in 

the  Language  of  a  Gentleman     .      .     57 

VI     How  They  Dine  Mr.  Keppel,  and  of  a 

Toast  Given  at  the  Dinner     ...     69 

VII  In  This  Chapter,  You  Read  of  How  King 
Solomon  Hoodwinked  Sheba,  and  of 
How  Little  Things  Set  a  Light  to 
Suspicion 81 

VHI    A  Duel,  and  the  Governor  Betrays  Un- 
due Anxiety 93 

IX  How  One  May  Find  Heaven  in  a  Vine- 
yard, AND  OF  How  Things  Are  not 
Only  All  They  Seem 100 

X  Of  How  even  a  Fat  Man  Can  Become 
Romantic,  and  of  How  the  Governor 
Pays  A  Call  ON  THE  Van  Bredas    .      .110 

XI     On  Public  Opinion  Placaarden  !  .      .     .128 

XII     Mosquitoes  and  Crescendoes  in  and  out 

Government  House 145 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIII  An   Elderly   Gentleman   Is   Forced   to 

Fight  a  Duel  with  His  Own  Con- 
science     i6i 

XIV  Letters    of    Importance    Are    Read    by 

Three  Ladies  in  a  Farm  Orchard;  and 
of  What  a  Fortunate  Thing  It  Is, 
That  Women's  Arms  Are  Kind     .      .171 

XV    A  Journey  and  a  Soliloquy  on  an  An- 
cient Game 182 

XVI     Miss  Somerset  Loses  a  Lover,  and  the 

First  Part  of  This  Story  Ends  .      .     .196 

XVII  How  Things  Change  !  Five  Years  Later 
in  England  and  Orangezicht,  and 
How  Aletta  Sings  to  the  Harp     .     .  205 

XVIII  Two  People  Hear  True  and  Curious 
Things,  Tragedies  Happen,  also  the 
Mystery  of  the  Motto  Is  Explained  .   223 

XIX  An  Unfortunate  "  Sottise."  Major 
Cloete  Suffers  a  Great  Shock,  After 
a  Duel,  Which  Is  Fought  Behind  the 
Amsterdam  Battery 231 


The  PEOPLE  mainly  important  who  meander 
through  this  ston^  are :  — 

The  Governor  and  Command- 
er-in-Chief at  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope  Lord  Charles  Henry 

Somerset. 

Lady  Charles  Somerset The  Governor's  second  wife. 

Lieut.  The  Honourable 

George   Keppel,   afterwards 

Lord  Albemarle  On  his  way  to  India. 

Surgeon-Major  James  Barry      An  enigmatic  character. 

Captain  Josias  Cloete A  big  Dutchman,  Military 

Secretary  to  the  Governor. 

Mr.  Whitefoote A.D.C. 

Mr.  Penderby    A.D.C. 

Michael  Van  Breda A  rich  merchant  and 

landowner. 

Dirk  Zorn Of  "  Leeuwenhof." 

Edwards    An  ex-convict. 

Mr.  Pringle Scotch  poet  and  press 

agitator. 
A  mysterious  young  man. 

Mr.  John  Thomas  Bigge  ....    His  Majesty's  Special 

Commissioner. 
The  Honble.  Georgiana 

Somerset    The  Governor's  daughter. 

M5nifrau  Petronelle 

Van  Breda    Of  "  Orangezicht." 

Aletta  Van  Breda  Her  niece. 

Mrs.  Crawford  and  her 

daughters 

Marie  Focus A  Slave. 


CHAPTER  I 

Miss  Georgian  a  Hears  Some  Plaix  Enxlish 

*'  And  I  should  be  ashamed  of  having  more  learn- 
ing than  my  husband." 

Georglana  Somerset  hurled  the  dictionary  through 
the  open  window. 

This  movable  force  hit  a  movable  object. 

The  sentry,  with  a  burning  cheek,  glanced  up  at 
the  open  window,  muttered  "  Oh,  my  Gawd,"  kicked 
the  dictionary  gently  to  one  side,  and  continued  his 
steady  tramp  up  and  down,  outside  the  Government 
house. 

The  dictionary  fell,  after  hitting  the  sentry's 
cheek,  butter  side  down.  It  was  a  brilliant  red  book 
and  the  sentry  began  thinking  about  It.  First  he 
only  cursed,  then  he  began  to  think,  then  he  became 
curious.  It  lay  In  front  of  the  sentry  box  and  soon 
began  to  assume  proportions.  At  first  it  seemed  a 
red  book  —  vastly  out  of  place  —  then  Its  propor- 
tions grew  to  the  Importance  of  a  sentry-box  —  a 
red  sentry  box,  soon  it  seemed  a  house  —  a  mountain 
—  a  sphere  —  something  too  enormous  to  be 
grinned  about.  So  was  a  mouse  delivered  of  a 
mountain !  The  sentry  gave  the  dictionary  another 
kick  and  turned  it  over  on  to  Its  back.     In  the  next 

I 


.?.,,.,..     .    .       ,    CAPE  CURREY 

teat  he  spelled  out  the  title:  "  Hinglish-French 
(must  be  something  about  Waterloo),  S'help  me." 
He  bent  lower.  *' S-o-t-t-i(ho)  s-e.  .  .  .  Frenchie 
for  Schottisch  may  be." 

He  glanced  up  again  at  the  open  window.  At 
that  moment,  some  one,  all  laughter,  some  one  all 
pink,  blue  and  sparkling  looked  out,  and  saw  the 
red  book  lying  at  the  feet  of  the  sentry. 

This  vision  settled  him.  ..."  Oh,  Er  " !  and 
tried  to  forget  the  obstacle  —  this  disturbing  red 
dictionary. 

In  the  room  of  the  open  window,  through  which 
the  dictionary  had  made  its  exit,  two  pretty  excited 
girls  stood  over  a  big  Dutch  table  covered  with 
books. 

In  those  1820  days  young  ladies  of  seventeen 
dressed  for  the  part.  The  Governor's  daughter 
—  Miss  Georgiana  Somerset,  in  white  frilled  mus- 
lin, had  blue  ribbons  to  match  her  eyes  — "  forget- 
me-nots  mixed  with  stars,"  so  ran  the  receipt  accord- 
ing to  the  latest  cadet  on  the  staff. 

Georgiana's  nose  tilted  divinely  —  too  divinely: 
"  Papa's  nose  and  my  nose  are  like  the  signposts  on 
the  highway.  Mine  points  straight  to  heaven,  his 
points  straight  to  hell,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  Papa's 
nose  hasn't  chosen  the  better  part;  for  in  heaven 
I  vow  I  shall  find  myself  having  to  curtsey  to  my 
own  nose;  I  shall  find  no  other  acquaintance." 


CAPE  CURREY  3 

The  Governor  had  related  this  conversation  with 
many  appreciative  chuckles  and  some  sly  winks  to 
my  Lord  Chief  Justice  Truter,  whose  nose  was  of 
a  wavering  disposition,  showing  no  immediate  de- 
sire for  extremes  except  in  its  glowing  end  and  in- 
clined more  to  finding  its  heaven  on  earth. 

The  big  dark  girl  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table 
looked  older  and  was  younger  than  Georgiana,  her 
rather  heavy  face  was  flushed  and  her  smile  showed 
excellent  teeth.  Both  girls  had  short  curly  hair. 
Aletta  Van  Breda  cut  her  brown  hair  for  a  whim, 
Georgiana  loved  to  be  like  her  friend;  and  there 
was  not  one,  nor  two,  but  several  young  men  who 
carried  in  their  wallets  a  fair  curl  that  had  once 
graced  Miss  Somerset's  little  head.  Aletta's  hair 
for  a  freak,  they  tied  on  to  the  absurd  headpiece 
of  an  ancient  scarecrow  that  terrified  the  grape- 
stealing  birds  in  the  Van  Breda  vineyards. 

So  much  for  their  looks  and  their  characters. 
And  so  back  to  the  dictionary,  all  this  while  dis- 
turbing the  usually  calm  horizon  of  the  sentry. 
Two  days  before,  the  Inspector  General  of  His 
Majesty's  hospitals  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
Surgeon-Major  Barry,  had  given  a  tea  party  in  his 
quarters  in  the  Castle.  To  this  tea-party  had  gone 
Miss  Somerset  and  Miss  Aletta  Van  Breda. 

This  James  Barry,  a  thin  strange  little  man, 
with  arms  kept  tucked  close  to  his  ribs,  big  hooked 


4  CAPE  CURREY 

nose,  prominent  pale  eyes  and  sandy  red  hair,  did 
not  appear  to  be  capable  of  captivating  the  ladies 
of  the  Cape.  Yet  he  was  to  be  seen  at  this  very 
hour  of  the  day  mincing  across  the  Sthal  Plein  with 
two  of  the  prettiest  and  tallest  girls  in  all  Cape 
Town  on  either  side  of  him.  Tall  young  Cloete 
of  the  Dragoons  saw  him  and  muttered  that  it  was 
a  monstrous  shocking  sight  —  but  then  Cloete  found 
the  little  surgeon  an  imp,  a  puck,  a  teasing  tantaliz- 
ing little  jay. 

Small  and  delicately  made,  possessing  a  tongue 
gifted  with  much  biting  subtlety,  having  achieved 
promotion  in  the  most  surprising  manner,  this  young 
Barry  ruled  the  garrison,  bullying  the  Governor, 
cajoling,  winning,  commanding,  grumbling,  and  earn- 
ing a  reputation  and  a  big  private  practice  as  a 
clever  surgeon. 

He  Hved  at  the  old  Vauban  rectangular  Fort, 
built  by  the  Dutch  on  the  foreshore  of  Table  Bay, 
on  the  spot  where  Van  Riebeeck  the  first  Dutch 
Governor  had  made  his  low  fortress,  to  protect  him- 
self and  his  band  of  followers  and  servants  of  the 
Dutch  East  India  Company,  from  the  savage  hordes 
of  Aborigines,  whose  instinct  for  hospitality  could 
never  quite  overcome  their  fear  of  armed  men  who 
crawled  on  the  sea  on  odd  looking  wooden  construc- 
tions. The  present  castle  or  fort  mounted  some 
forty  guns  and  faced  the  sea  with  a  water  gate. 


CAPE  CURREY  5 

Over  the  door  of  his  castle  quarters  Barry  wrote 
up  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  his  motto;  his  crest, 
he  said,  was  shared  by  so  many  that  he  made  no 
private  use  of  it.  As  he  seemed  to  possess  no  family 
and  no  relations  this  was  taken  to  be  one  of  his 
usual  quaint  remarks.  But  the  motto  was  ominous, 
and  it  was  because  of  this  motto  that  Miss  Som- 
erset and  her  friend  had  been  spending  a  few  un- 
profitable minutes  with  a  French  dictionary.  The 
motto  ran  "  11  ne  faut  jamais  faire  des  sottises  a 
demi.'^ 

It  was  the  word  "  sottlse  "  that  caused  the  worry. 

"  Aletta  my  love,  listen !  An  error  of  judgment, 
a  mistake,  a  foolish  action.  Voila !  I  begin  to 
suspect  this  shocking  young  man  of  not  being  per- 
fectly fit  society  for  two  charming  young  things." 

Aletta  jumped  up  impatiently. 

"  I  wager  the  gallant  Captain  Cloete  never  seeks 
counsel  of  a  dictionary  —  nor  Mr.  Penbury,  nor 
Mr.  Whitefoote,  nor  .  .  ." 

And  this  is  where  Miss  Somerset  hurled  the  dic- 
tionary out  of  the  window,  accompanied  by  the 
appropriately  feminine  remark.  For  she  knew  with- 
out the  help  of  a  dictionary  the  exact  weight  value 
and  worth  of  the  brains  and  hearts  of  Cloete,  Pen- 
bury  and  Whitefoote;  and  the  value  and  worth  of 
her  attention  to  Barry's  motto,  she  also  knew,  would 
not  be  undoubted  by  these  young  men.     Therefore 


6  CAPE  CURREY 

Miss  Somerset,  who  professed  a  hatred  of  arithme- 
tic, by  a  subtle  mathematical  deduction,  wherein  her 
rapturous  appreciation  of  Barry,  imparted  to  Aletta, 
played  no  small  part  (never  trust  a  woman,  said 
Aletta,  not  even  me,  dearest),  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion which  dispensed  with  a  dictionary,  sent  it 
flying  through  the  big  Dutch  window,  accompanied 
by  the  remark  that  lends  consideration  to  the  idea 
that  every  well  brought  up  girl  in  1820  regarded 
all  young  men  as  possible  husbands,  and  with  the 
resignation  born  of  adaptability,  and  with  the  cour- 
age of  conviction  that  she  acted  for  the  best,  suited 
her  mind  to  the  standard  of  these  probable  husbands 
when  occasion  demanded  it.  Women  of  to-day 
look  at  decay  through  rose-colored  glasses  from  a 
Kursaal  window,  on  rows  of  smiling  Winterhalter 
great-grandmothers  with  sloping  shoulders  and 
gentle  smiHng  faces;  mothers  of  great  soldiers,  great 
statesmen,  and  great  drinkers,  who  understood  the 
art  of  being  loving  women  at  the  risk  of  being  re- 
garded as  placid  Madonnas  or  necessary  bores. 
That  they  kept  in  their  hearts  sentiments  written 
by  few,  perhaps  even  unframed  in  thought,  may 
now  be  suspected,  since  conscious  revolt  has  suc- 
ceeded well-lived  acceptance,  and  expression  is  fash- 
ionable. Reproduction  is  succeeded  by  production. 
But  one  has  that  slightly  conscious  sensation  that 
these  sleek  creatures,  though  possibly  envying  their 


CAPE  CURREY  7 

great  grand-daughters  enjoying  strange  pursuits  and 
occupations,  yet  find  themselves  forced  to  murmur 
through  canvas  lips:  "Dear,  dear,  but  we  hope 
some  one  wished  to  marry  her." 

To  return  again  to  the  dictionary.  The  sentry 
having  no  power  of  analysis  had  given  the  book  a 
last  kick  which  sent  it  straight  at  the  stomach  of 
our  mincing  little  surgeon,  tripping  up  to  Govern- 
ment House.  When  a  Jack-in-the-Box  is  pressed 
in  the  middle,  out  he  pops  with  a  squeak:  Barry's 
oaths  were  shrill  falsetto  squeaks  and  brought  both 
girls  to  the  window.  Georgiana's  eyes  shone  with 
glee,  her  nose  insulted  and  mocked  the  entire  situa- 
tion. 

"  Dr.  James,  Dr.  James,  come  here.  What  kind 
of  sottise  was  it?  We've  looked  it  up  in  a  most 
genteel  dictionary.  Explain  dear  Dr.  James! 
What  is  a  sottise?  Your  particular  sottise?  It 
is  a  monstrous  mystery." 

The  Governor,  passing  through  the  lower  hall, 
stopped  to  listen. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  Ma^am,  it  is  the  Greatest  Mys- 
tery," snapped  Barry.  "  Call  it  a  rib,  Ma'am  — 
there's  to  your  original  —  a  rib,  a  rib,  and  there's 
a  bone  for  you  to  pick." 

He  stopped  to  pick  up  the  dictionary  and  passed 
Into  the  house,  saluting  preposterously,  the  two  girls. 

"  My  love,"  said  Gcorgiana,  very  red  in  the  face, 


8  CAPE  CURREY 

turning  to  Aletta,  "  English  and  especially  what  Is 
called  plain  English  Is  a  very  copious  and  exceedingly 
expressive  language." 

An  Orderly  brought  up  the  miserable  dictionary 
"  with  Surgeon-Major  Barry's  respects."  It  was 
open  and  she  noticed  the  word  "  Betise." 

*'  Of  course  we  know  It  was  a  Betise,  but  to  tell 
one  what  one  already  knows  and  then  to  add 
a  mystery  to  It  —  a  sort  of  puzzle  or  a  problem 
Fable  by  Mr.  Gay.  .  .  .  '  Not  half  the  importance 
you  suppose,  replied  the  flea  upon  his  nose.'  Dare 
I,  Aletta?  I  would  dearly  love  to  wave  that  rhyme 
as  a  parting  shot;  for  does  he  not  think  himself  of 
great  importance,  and  Pa  encourages  the  idea,  and 
others  are  much  too  terrified  of  his  tongue  to  con- 
tradict." 

"  What  is  the  rhyme,  Georgle  ?  I  have  no  ac- 
quaintance with  Mr.  Gay's  poems.  Indeed  Dirk 
Zorn's  efforts  are  enough  for  me." 

"  Then  listen." 

For  a  platform  she  had  an  old  Dutch  coffer,  made 
by  some  slave  from  the  East,  inlaid  and  ornamented 
with  strange  and  pleasant  smelling  woods. 

"  Whether  in  earth,  in  air,  or  main, 
Sure  everything  alive  is  vain, 
When  the  crab  views  the  pearly  strands 
Of  Tagus,  bright  with  golden  sands, 
Or  crawls  beside  the  coral  grove, 


CAPE  CURREY  9 

And  hears  the  ocean  roll  above, 
Nature  is  too  profuse,  says  he, 
Who  gave  all  these  to  pleasure  me!  " 

And  then  the  hawk  speaks,  and  so  on,  to  the  snail; 
all  conceited,  seeing  only  nature  creative  for  them. 
But  listen  Aletta,  when  we  come  to  7nan/ " 

"  What  dignity's  in  human  nature 
Says  Man,  the  most  conceited  creature, 
As  from  a  cliff  he  cast  his  eye 
And  viewed  the  sea  and  arched  sky, 
The  sun  was  sunk  beneath  the  main, 
The  moon  and  all  the  starry  train; 
Hung  the  vast  vault  of  heaven.     The  man 
This  contemplation  thus  began: 
When  I  behold  the  glorious  glow  " 

*'  I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  remember  the  next 
verse.  He  speaks  of  the  day,  the  night,  the  seasons, 
and  goes  on  .  .  . 

"  And  know  all  these  by  heaven  designed 
As  gifts  to  pleasure  human-kind ; 
I  cannot  raise  my  worth  too  high 
Of  what  vast  consequence  am  I ! 

Not  of  the  importance  you  suppose, 
Replies  a  flea  upon  his  nose. 
Be  humble,  learn  yourself  to  scan! 
What  heaven  and  earth  for  you  designed 
'Tis  Vanity  that  swells  your  mind! 
For  thee!     Made  only  for  our  need 
That  more  important  fleas  might  feed." 


lo  CAPE  CURREY 

Slow  Aletta  sat  at  the  end  of  the  Dutch  table 
with  frowning  brows,  her  beautiful,  lazy  white  hands 
folded  in  her  ample  lap;  her  mouth  ever  seemed  too 
lazy  to  give  utterance  to  her  thoughts,  and  the  words 
lay  heavily  on  her  pale  lips  as  on  velvet,  absorbing 
half  their  sound. 

*'  I  think,  Georgie,  you  must  love  this  little  doctor, 
he  makes  you  so  very  cross."  She  watched  the 
effect  of  her  words  and  with  enormous  skill  con- 
tinued. .  .  .  "A  rib!  Why,  a  rib  is  no  mystery, 
for  woman  was  made  from  a  rib  —  Not !  So  the 
Bible  says.  But  then  what  has  that  to  do  with  Dr. 
James  —  and  then  why  throw  it  to  the  dogs,  meaning 
us  my  love,  to  pick:  A  dirty  unladylike  enough 
proceeding  calculated  to  draw  Tante  Petronelle's 
wrath  —  if  not  the  stroppie  (strap).  But  he  says 
his  Sottise  is  a  Mystery  and  a  Rib !  Dear  Georgie, 
perhaps  the  klein  doctorje  is  a  little  '  fey.'  " 

Georgiana,  still  blushing  from  the  remembrance 
of  Barry's  snub,  without  turning  from  the  wide  win- 
dow, rephed:  "  When  I  said  I  would  be  ashamed  of 
having  more  learning  than  my  husband,  I  also  meant 
I  wish  to  have  as  much  learning." 

"  Georgie,"  gasped  Aletta. 

"  Why  not,  Miss,"  snapped  Miss  Somerset,  fac- 
ing her. 

"  Oh,  Georgie,  how  red  your  face  is,"  shrieked 
Aletta,  rashly. 


CAPE  CURREY  ii 

"  Dem  you,"  said  Miss  Somerset,  "  Why  not?  " 
"  Thrown  to  the  dogs,  to  you  and  me !  Impertinent, 
gross  little  man.  Is  that  the  way  to  reply  to  me, 
the  Governor's  daughter.  And  do  you  know, 
Aletta  .  .  ."  Then  she  broke  down.  She  told 
Aletta  with  a  simple  face  how  this  same  Impertinence 
had  ridden  with  her  the  week  before  and  had  told 
her  she  was  the  "  sweetest  thing  ever  made  from  a 
rib  .  .  .,"  that  he  picked  her  white  heather,  and 
made  her  a  poem  to  go  with  it,  and  quoted  passages 
from  the  new  poem  "  Christabel,"  and  worse  to 
come.  .  .  .  One  day  when  she  had  walked  on  the 
rocks  at  Green  Point  and  hurt  her  foot,  he  had 
rubbed  it  for  her,  and,  indeed,  *'  Aletta,  he  kissed 
it,"  sobbed  Miss  Somerset.  "  That  is  one  mood. 
The  next  day,  all  rudeness  and  cutting  wit,  and  all 
his  attention  to  Papa.  And  some  days  he  under- 
stands so  well,  even  to  one's  unspoken  wish,  then 
a  day  like  to-day!  Intolerable  rudeness."  She 
was  in  Aletta's  arms,  her  muslin  ruffles  limp  with 
tears. 

Wise  Aletta  consoled  her.  "  Leave  the  mystery 
to  me,  love:  I,  who  dote  on  mysteries.  Turn  your 
thoughts,  sweet,  to  one  of  those  honest  young  men, 
perhaps  to  Captain  Cloete.  At  least  they  are  men, 
Georgie,  and  what  is  the  little  doctor  but  a  few  little 
bones,  as  he  rightly  says." 


CHAPTER  II 

Chaste  Conversation  Tempered  with  Fear  in  the 
Heerengracht 

The  year  1820  had  contained  in  its  program  an 
event  of  some  importance  to  Great  Britain,  some 
importance  to  the  future  of  South  Africa,  and  a 
great  deal  of  importance  to  Lord  Charles  Henry- 
Somerset,  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Beaufort,  Gov- 
ernor and  Commander  in  Chief  at  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope.  The  British  Government  was  all  for  colo- 
nizing; the  lands  of  South  Africa  had  been  hitherto 
only  dwelling  ground  for  Dutch  and  Aborigines,  and 
Lord  Charles  had  up  to  then  been  a  widower  of 
some  diplomacy  with  a  not  too  moderately  restrained 
interest  in  the  breeding  of  race  horses. 

His  first  wife  had  died  a  few  years  before,  leaving 
him  with  three  daughters  and  a  strong  desire  to 
take  another  and  younger  wife.  One  daughter, 
EHzabeth,  had  married  young,  a  Wyndham;  the 
youngest  was  at  school,  and  Georgiana,  the  middle 
one,  he  brought  out  with  him  and  his  new  wife 
after  one  of  his  visits  to  England. 

The  drama  that  began  In  1820  was  bred  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  where  Mr.  Vansittart,  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer,  pointed  a  way  to  a  prom- 

12 


CAPE  CURREY  13 

ised  land  for  the  untaxable  criminals,  whose  great 
crime  of  poverty  led  other  Ministers  to  remark  that 
if  such  criminals  were  not  willing  to  emigrate,  it 
might  even  be  advisable  to  transport  them  without 
their  consent. 

But  an  untaxed  Eldorado  proved  attraction 
enough;  and  on  a  day  In  March  1820  four  ships 
arrived  In  Table  Bay  short  of  food  and  water  and 
overburdened  with  four  thousand  poverty  stricken 
seekers  of  untaxed  plenty. 

Waterloo  days  were  hardly  over;  George  IV  was 
hardly  King;  this  precious  halfway  house  to  India 
had  only  just  been  ceded  —  for  a  considerable  con- 
sideration to  England,  when  the  Government,  smart- 
ing under  the  sense  of  failure  In  America,  looked  to 
the  South  and  its  old-young  Colony  for  regeneration. 
As  a  Minister  remarked,  "  He  would  call  the  New 
World  Into  existence  to  redress  the  balance  of  the 
Old." 

In  1820,  on  the  high  white  verandah  of  the  "  So- 
ciety House  "  in  the  Heerengracht,  the  principal 
street  In  Cape  Town,  a  short  stout  man  scowled  and 
fidgeted  over  a  glass  of  Cape  Pontac;  five  or  six 
men,  who  might  easily  have  been  taken  for  gentle- 
men of  color,  sprawled  in  long  wooden  chairs  placed 
in  rows  on  the  verandah.  Below  In  the  street,  ex- 
cited groups  of  men  and  women  chattered  and  gesti- 
culated. 


14  CAPE  CURREY 

The  Government  autioneer  was  holding  a  public 
sale,  opposite  the  Bank,  a  little  further  up  the  street. 
All  the  big  merchants  sent  their  surplus  stock  to  the 
"  Dutch  "  public  sale.  Crowds  congregated,  push- 
ing and  elbowing  their,  way  Into  the  shade  of  the 
trees  bordering  the  stream.  Crowds,  to  buy  the 
ladles'  bonnets,  Hodgson's  ale,  broadcloth,  WeUIng- 
ton  boots;  ladles  too  were  there.  In  short,  hlgh- 
walsted,  beruffled  muslins,  accompanied  by  their 
slaves  carrying  the  ubiquitous  sunshade. 

The  liberated  Malay  women  retained  the  crinoline 
whose  abolition  had  been  ordered  by  Royal  decree. 
Beautiful  creatures  and  splendid  spots  of  color,  they 
stood  out  from  the  crowd  in  yellow  and  green  stiff 
satins  with  gorgeous  triangular  handkerchief  of 
satin  or  silk  over  their  well-oiled  low  brows  and 
tied  In  a  knot  at  the  nape  of  the  neck. 

Mynfrau  de  Wahl,  who  was  one  of  the  few  Dutch 
ladles  to  brave  the  morning  sun,  sailed  by,  with  her 
Malay  slave  carrying  her  huge  green  umbrella.  She 
still  wore  the  mourning  ordered  for  Queen  Caro- 
line's Funeral,  being  not  only  a  snobbish  lady,  but 
also  a  very  economical  one.  Her  dress,  which  had 
been  made  locally  after  instructions  from  England 
that  had  arrived  three  months  after  the  Queen's 
death,  was  of  black  crepe  over  a  white  satin  slip, 
black  cloth  pellse  thrown  open  because  of  the  heat, 
and  lined  with  white   sarsinet   and  trimmed  with 


CAPE  CURREY  15 

white  silk  cord.  Her  bonnet  of  black  leghorn  was 
trimmed  with  *'  blond  "   and  satin. 

Almost  opposite  the  Society  House  In  conspicuous 
retirement  from  the  street,  stood  a  low  white  build- 
ing, "  The  Exchange,"  called  in  the  contempt  of 
familiarity  the  "  Den  of  Thieves."  It  was  spa- 
ciously surrounded  by  trees  and  low-hanging  chain 
railings. 

The  pale  yellow  gentlemen  full  of  Indian  recipes 
for  Indigestible  dishes,  were  the  chief  assets  to  the 
"  Society  House."  Soldiers  or  civil  servants,  they 
ran  Cape  Society  in  the  intervals  of  Indian  fevers 
and  diseases,  finding  the  Cape  a  Halfway  House 
for  convalescence  between  India  and  Home.  So- 
ciety Houses  gave  birth  later  to  clubs,  so  popularized 
by  the  King,  where  cooking  and  good  cooking  be- 
came as  essential  as  Macao. 

Down  the  tree-bordered  Heerengracht  came  a 
strange  but  small  procession.  A  thin  little  figure  In 
very  tight  uniform,  carrying  a  large  white  umbrella, 
was  seated  on  a  staid  elderly  white  pony,  which 
looked  as  If  no  amount  of  agitation,  no  exciting 
haranguing  crowd  of  starving  emigrants,  would  in- 
stil the  slightest  desire  In  his  fat  lazy  body  for 
greater  effort  than  the  slow  stately  walk  he  was 
now  enduring  with  such  lethargic  patience.  A  fat 
black  slave  walked  beside  the  pony  holding  the 
bridle:  about  two  yards  behind,  suiting  his  waddle 


i6  CAPE  CURREY 

to  the  progress  of  the  party,  followed  a  fat  spaniel. 

Barry  alone  looked  the  Incarnation  of  the  ''  rib 
and  the  bone  "  he  had  flung,  as  a  repartee,  to  the 
Inquisitive  Georgiana. 

The  fat  stout  man  moved  suddenly  to  the  curved 
steps  of  the  verandah  or  stoep.  He  greeted  Barry, 
who  dismounted,  and  together  they  walked  Into  the 
big  hall  of  the  club  house. 

"  The  Governor's  In  a  devil  of  a  fuss,"  said  Barry, 
slowly  pulling  off  his  thin  cotton  gloves,  "  and  you, 
being  President  of  the  Senate  must  .  .  ." 

The  fat  man  interrupted  him.  "  To  the  Dulvel 
with  these  emigrants  .  .  .  why,  man,  dere  Is  not 
corn  enough  for  half  of  dem !  Senate  or  no  Senate. 
Vat  I  say  Is  dis,  man  .  .  .  de  Burghers  vlll  not  vote 
more  supplies,  no :  not  If  Miss  Georgiana  comes 
begging  herself.     Man  doet  wat  man  kan  —  vat?  " 

"  Van  Breda  —  If  the  Senate  refuses,  why,  there 
Is  still  Van  Breda  and  Zorn,  Merchants  and  Gentle- 
men; but  It's  a  damn  fuss,  and  poor  Charles  Henry 
Is  writing  a  report  which  will  make  the  Home  people 
smart.  Milk  and  honey  Indeed !  Dutch  and  Kaffir 
is  more  descriptive." 

The  President  of  the  Senate,  farmer,  wine-maker, 
breeder  of  horses,  Michael  Van  Breda,  winked  a 
bright  blue  eye. 

He  was  used  to  these  scenes.  He  remembered 
how  during  the  Governor's  absence  the  acting  Gov- 


CAPE  CURREY  17 

crnor,  Sir  Rufus  Donkin,  with  the  lethargy  of  ill- 
ness, had  gone  to  him  for  help  in  those  troublesome 
weeks,  when,  after  a  long  hot  summer  Cape  Town 
had  endeavored  to  supply  food  to  the  emigrant 
transports:  how  Georgiana,  who  had  stopped  behind 
at  the  Cape  at  her  express  desire,  had  come  down 
to  the  Burgher  Senate  —  a  thing  never  before  done, 
a  thing  the  Senate  all  privately  feared  might  never 
happen  again  —  how  she  had  begged  and  com- 
manded them  to  save  the  reputation  and  the  honor 
of  England,  how  he  had  answered  "  We  no  longer 
grow  vegetables  at  the  Cape,  Ma'am,  we  breed 
horses,"  how  Georgiana  had  replied  for  the  sake  of 
the  Somerset  honor,  "  that  is.  Sir,  because  we  can 
no  longer  breed  gentlemen."  He  remembered  all 
this  and  wondered  why  these  fool  English  settlers 
could  not  help  themselves.  "  At  least  one  should 
do  what  one  could,"  translating  his  own  motto. 

A  tall  young  man  came  into  the  room  and  slapped 
Barry  on  the  back.  "  You  insult  my  back,  Sir," 
snapped  the  Inspector  General,  "  You  good  for  noth- 
ing young  Irishman." 

*'  Mijn  Heer  Sheridan,"  said  Breda,  ''  this  busi- 
ness is  no  good  for  the  Governor,  and  I  have  met 
a  verdomte  Englishman  who  says  he  is  a  gentleman 
emigrant.  Vat  I  say  is  dis:  No  Gentleman  would 
kom  wid  poor  emigrants.  But  he  say,  at  Madeira, 
he  supplied  his  ship  with  food,  and  die  verdomte 


i8  CAPE  CURREY 

Governor,  and  die  more  Verdomte  Bird,  say  —  No, 
you  shall  not  land.  He  say  dere's  die  sickness  on 
board,  and  he  say — (with  another  wink  this  time 
at  young  Sheridan)  "  dat  if  die  little  doctor  who 
valks  like  a  frau,  vas  any  good.  .  .  ." 

*'  You  lie,  sir,''  shrieked  Barry. 

*'  Yes,  certainly  I  lie,"  chuckled  old  Van  Breda, 
"  but  it  gives  you  so  very  much  pleasure  to  tell  me 
so." 

**  Vaal,  I  mos  be  off,  Doctorje,"  old  Michael  laid 
his  large  kind  hand  on  Barry's  shoulder,  "  You  kom 
wid  me,  I  go  by  de  slave  maket.  De  slaves  is  going 
to  de  dorges,  dese  days.  As  I  kom  trough  my  peach 
orchard,  dere  I  see  lying  Chaaly  en  young  Piet,  my 
two  wot  work  in  de  cellars.  Dey  vas  crying  and 
crying.  Bot  wot  is  de  matter  I  say.  '  Oom  — 
Oom  Baasie,  dey  cry,  it  a  berry  sad  world  for  poor 
slaves.  We  stole  some  of  de  Baases  brandy-wijn, 
and  drink  a  lort  from  de  brandy-wijn,  and  orl  de 
morning  we  go  be  in  de  sun,  but  oh!  Baasie,  die 
verdomte  ting  vill  nie  trek  nie !  '  My  gracious  me  I 
it  vos  to  say  *  Die  damn  stoff  vont  maak  us  dronk,' 
and  dey  vas  crying."  His  high  big  voice  rose  into 
a  fortissimo  of  outraged  ownership.  ..."  Die 
brandy-wijn  from  Van  Breda  surely  never  could 
maak  black  stooff  dronk.  Tanks  be !  "  He  splut- 
tered on  more  insulted.  .  .  .  '*  You  steal  and  den 
insult  my  wijn,  you  black  trash.     I  say  ...  I  sell 


CAPE  CURREY  19 

you  by  de  market!  But  I  go  now  to  buy  dem  in. 
Dey  have  enough  fright  as  it  is  .  .  .  and  dey  werry 
useful  boys." 

"  Sorry  I  can't  just  now,  Van  Breda,  but  it's  a 
good  story  for  H.  E." 

Barry  jumped  up  and  ran  down  the  steps,  while 
Tom  Sheridan,  exile,  coughing  himself  to  pieces, 
walked  up  and  down  the  hall. 

The  Indian  invalids  eyed  him  as  he  passed.  They 
were  full  of  English  news  gleaned  from  the  lately 
arrived  emigrants,  news  that  affected  Barry,  news 
that  gave  him  a  chance  to  pay  back  old  scores,  for 
the  tongue  of  the  Inspector  General  did  not  spare 
those  pillars  of  the  "  Society  House  ";  but  this  little 
oddity — *' Cape  Currey  "  as  they  called  him  was, 
after  all  their  doctor,  and  heaven  alone  knew  what 
might  not  result  if  "  Cape  Currey  "  was  touched 
up.  This  precious  full-pay  convalescence  at  the 
Halfway  House  depended  a  good  deal  on  the  good 
will  of  Major  Barry. 

An  orange-faced  gossiper  fired  his  little  bomb : 

"  Bishop  Burnett  tells  me  there  was  a  rumor  that 
the  new  King  knew  a  good  deal  about  the  Cape  and 
that  he  had  a  good  reason  for  loving  it,  as  a  dump- 
ing ground,  not  only  for  paupers,  but  for  '  very 
left-handed  princes.'  " 

"  You  imply  then  that  Barry's  rapid  progress  has 
been  due  to  influence  in  high  places,"  asked  another. 


20  CAPE  CURREY 

"  The  whole  affair  is  opera  bouffe  —  personally 
I  always  figured  to  myself  Barry  springing  up  from 
the  world,  born  of  swords  and  dragons'  teeth  and 
nothing  more  human.  Truter,  of  course,  will  find 
some  excuse  for  stopping  Burnett,  and  His  Excel- 
lency will  see  Bird  about  sending  on  corn  to  Algoa 
Bay.  But  this  Burnett  man  is  kicking  up  a  mon- 
strous dust  and  all  the  officials  are  choking.'* 

The  "  Indian "  gentleman  sauntered  into  the 
room. 

All  loved  Tommy  Sheridan  and  rushed  him  with 
questions.  .  .  .  Was  it  correct?  .  .  .  Would  the 
dinner  to  Mr.  Keppel  be  postponed  owing  to  events? 
.  .  .  Was  it  true  that  His  Excellency  had  given  old 
Leroux  his  finest  Imported  gelding?  and  —  the  quid 
pro  quo  —  had  Leroux  given  the  girl  her  freedom 
—  pretty  girl  —  some  one  had  danced  with  her  at 
the  last  Rainbow  Re-unions.  .  .  .  They  say  Barry 
gets  a  commission  on  every  slave  he  discovers. —  Oh, 
well,  if  it  is  a  lie. —  Anyway,  no  one  is  going  to  deny 
that.  Barry  goes  regularly  to  the  slave  market. 
They  say  old  Lady  Charles  discovered  the  latest 
little  episode  and  had  the  Fiscal  to  see  to  the  proper 
dispensation  of  chastisement  —  but  since  the  poor 
old  lady  sought  Abraham's  bosom,  finding  small 
satisfaction  in  her  lawful  spouse,  well,  quite  a  num- 
ber of  slave  owners  had  got  presents  of  geldings. 
This  scandalous  gossip  buzzed  round  Sheridan,  while 


CAPE  CURREY  21 

the  strange  little  doctor  rode  up  the  steep  mountain 
path  at  the  back  of  the  town  and  Michael  Van  Breda 
walked  up  the  Waloon  Street  to  the  slave  market. 

Michael  Van  Breda  was  short,  and  stout  and 
square;  with  pointed  beard,  very  blue  eyes,  and  florid 
high  cheeks.  He  has  been  painted  many  times  by 
Hals;  he  Is  Holland,  pure,  untouched,  unspoiled 
Holland,  transplanted  Into  the  Country  of  the  Half- 
way House,  where  Dutch  caution  was  no  Impediment 
to  Eastern  opulence.  He  grew  rich,  he  Imported 
slaves  from  the  East  coast  of  Africa,  from  Mozam- 
bique, and  skilled  workmen  slaves  from  Java  and 
Batavia  where  the  Dutch  had  made  themselves  an 
Idle,  opulent  and  beautiful  Empire;  Michael  had  a 
taste  too  for  art,  he  sometimes  designed  his  own 
patterns  for  furniture  made  at  the  Homestead  by 
thin-flngered  Malays,  and  drew  a  good  drawing  for 
a  new  barn  or  winehouse  to  be  wrought  delicately 
In  plaster  by  a  half-breed  from  Mauritius.  He  was 
part  owner  of  a  big  trading  vessel  which,  after  pay- 
ing vast  dues  to  the  Dutch  East  India  Company, 
managed  to  bring  to  Michael's  pockets  not  only 
exquisite  jade  and  oriental  porcelain  from  China, 
but  also  other  merchandise  from  the  East,  and  a 
slave  or  two  picked  up  by  accident  or  by  design  at 
Zanzibar  or  some  port  higher  up  the  Eastern  coast. 
Now  that  the  British  Government  had  taken  over 
this  Peninsula,  or  bought  It  of  the  Dutch  at  The 


22  CAPE  CURREY 

Hague,  It  was  considerably  easier  to  make  bigger 
trading  profits;  anyhow,  until  they  were  more  or- 
ganized. 

His  family  was  part  of  the  little  band  of  Van 
Riebeeck's  followers,  when  that  much  tried  servant 
of  the  Dutch  East  India  Company  landed  at  the 
'Cape  of  Storms  with  rice  and  cotton  clothing  in 
either  hand,  whereby  to  barter  more  land  and  some 
concessions  from  the  terrified  bands  of  depraved 
Hottentot  peoples  who  had  not  yet  fled  from  the 
Portuguese  guns.  Later,  when  they  had  built 
themselves  Into  a  low  fort  not  far  from  the  spot 
where  d'Almada,  the  Portuguese  Viceroy,  had  been 
killed,  they  found  round  them  natives  from  the  west 
coast,  Damaras,  Namaquas,  carrying  bags  of  copper 
and  gold  to  this  magic  house  from  whence  came  good 
food  and  the  coveted  tobacco.  Tobacco  formed 
the  key  to  those  wonderful  copper,  tin,  and  iron 
mountains  in  the  north :  they  brought  little  luxuries 
too,  such  as  wild  ostrich  feathers.  The  Infanta  of 
Spain  had  had  her  portrait  painted  by  Don  Velas- 
quez with  two  of  these  curled  round  her  bright  hair : 
the  courtiers  wore  them  in  little  tufts  on  the  velvet 
caps:  Rubens,  the  painter,  made  his  wife  put  them 
in  her  hat.  Europe  was  smothered  in  wild  ostrich 
feathers. 

There  had  been  sickness  and  other  hardships 
borne  by  the  little  band  in  the  old  fort;  endless  pa- 


CAPE  CURREY  23 

tience  too,  as  the  natives  were  very  shy  and  took 
fright  easily;  and  apart  from  the  one  or  two  cadets 
—  sons  of  good  f amihes  —  the  Company's  paid 
servants  were  not  educated  men,  and  life  was  a 
lonely,  Isolated  and  dangerous  affair.  Wild  ani- 
mals were  responsible  for  many  ill-spared  deaths, 
or  a  poisoned  arrow-head  from  some  lair  of  the 
Hottentots  on  the  sand  dunes  round  the  Fort. 

It  is  an  heroic  tale,  the  story  of  the  colonizing 
Governor  Van  Riebeeck  and  Maria  de  Quellerai, 
his  wife,  with  their  brave  friends,  but  It  is  only 
brought  In  here  to  help  out  and  explain  Michael 
Van  Breda's  inheritance  —  an  inheritance  of  hardly- 
won  land  where  easy  opulence  suddenly  succeeded 
poverty  and  danger. 

There  must  come  a  time  in  all  family  histories 
when  peace  must  succeed  strife,  and  change  Is  al- 
ways sudden,  so  sudden  as  to  re-act  on  the  lives 
of  the  fortunate  ones  as  a  sedative;  they  bloom  and 
blossom  and  grow  large  and  round.  Contentment 
and  Prosperity  sitting  like  guardian  angels  on  either 
hand,  a  Cornucopia  at  their  feet  yielding  corn  and 
grapes  In  abundance,  wild  beasts  and  poisoned  ar- 
rows In  the  almost  forgotten  background. 

Even  local  politics,  not  to  mention  world  history, 
had  ceased  to  interest  those  rich  merchants  of  the 
Tavern  of  the  Seas,  the  Receivers  of  the  Loot  of 
the  East,  the  Harbor  of  the  Flotsam  and  Jetsam 


24  CAPE  CURREY 

of  the  two  great  Oceans.  What  the  waves  tossed 
up  on  the  dunes  was  not  the  least  of  the  treasure 
so  simply  acquired.  It  was  with  a  mind  entirely 
set  on  his  errand  that  Van  Breda  tolled  up  the  steep 
Wale  or  Waloon  Street  beside  the  half  dried-up 
canal  which  supplied  sufficient  moisture  to  the  tall 
lanky  palm  trees  growing  before  the  flat-roofed  low 
white  houses  of  that  street.  With  difficulty  he  held 
on  his  head  the  large  white  leghorn  hat,  of  gigantic 
dimensions,  for  the  hot  devastating  South-East  wind 
blew  through  the  funnel  of  mountain  made  by  gaps 
between  the  "  Devil's  Peak  "  and  Table  Mountain 
proper  —  a  gale  such  as  Is  not  met  with  In  other 
corners  of  the  earth.  He  turned  off  sharply  into 
Burg  Street,  Into  the  square  where  the  Town  House 
reared  Its  perfect  proportions,  and  so  Into  the  Rle- 
beeck  Square  where  the  long,  low  flat  Slave  Market 
stood.  Above  the  square,  almost  honeycombed  Into 
the  hill  behind,  the  tiny  mosques  and  white  and 
pink  and  yellow  houses  of  the  Malay  Quarter 
showed.  Many  Malays  had  by  this  time  bought 
or  acquired  their  freedom  and  lived  here,  earning 
their  living  as  fruit  peddlers  or  bazaar  holders,  or 
cobblers  and  fish  sellers,  meeting  the  boats  at  Rogge 
Bay  and  carrying  up  their  fish  In  the  same  sort  of 
baskets  as  used  by  the  carriers  of  fruit  —  huge, 
round,  loosely  plaited  reed  baskets  slung  from  a 
pole  carried  across  the  sholders.     To  differentiate 


CAPE  CURREY  25 

them  from  the  slaves  who  wore  a  sort  of  uniform, 
these  carriers  wore  modern  dress,  but  still  kept  to 
the  conical  shaped  reed  hat,  round  at  the  brim,  ris- 
ing suddenly  to  a  point,  having  attached  to  it  hun- 
dreds of  many-colored  ribbon  streamers  that  floated 
in  the  breeze. 

Some  of  the  Malays  prided  themselves  on  pos- 
sessing better  blood  than  their  slave  brethren,  for 
many  of  their  ancestors  had  come  to  the  Cape  with 
the  exiled  Sheik  Joseph,  whose  story  is  still  possessed 
of  some  mystery.  Certain  it  Is  that  a  man  full  of 
wisdom  and  honor  In  his  own  country  had  one  day 
landed  In  False  Bay  from  a  Dutch  East  Indlaman, 
surrounded  by  a  collection  of  disciples  and  friends, 
had  founded  In  the  sandy  Isthmus  what  amounted 
to  a  monastery,  and  had  been  burled  there.  His 
^tomb  was  a  sacred  spot  and  pilgrimages  were  made 
to  it  once  a  year  by  the  Faithful.  At  the  corner  of 
the  rounded,  small-bricked  steps,  leading  up  to  the 
Slave  Market,  before  a  little  pink-papered  stall, 
under  a  gigantic  green  umbrella,  sat  old  Rachael, 
whose  history  appeared  not  to  exist  apart  from  the 
role  she  had  played  for  at  least  eighty  years  at  the 
steps  of  the  market.  She  made  and  sold  lollipops 
of  her  own  receipt,  brought  from  the  East  by  some 
forgotten  ancestor.  Her  unusually  long,  thin  ner- 
vous fingers  stirred  odd  messes  In  bright  pots  behind 
the  little  stall,  until  she  died,  aged  one  hundred  and 


26  CAPE  CURREY 

ten.  Her  receipts,  or  some  of  them,  were  sold,  and 
it  is  possible  still  in  this  year,  19 19,  to  eat  "  Rachael's 
sweets  "  in  Cape  Town.  She  was  gossiping  with 
a  friend,  older  and  more  a  mass  of  nerves  and  bones 
than  she.  The  old  lady,  looking  more  like  a  sad 
lady  monkey  than  a  Malay  woman,  was  showing 
her  rolls  of  rix  dollars.  Because  of  the  wind  she 
had  all  ten  of  them  spread  out  before  her  on  the 
hard,  dirty  road,  with  a  big  stone  to  keep  each  from 
flying  away  into  the  Bay;  then  she  spread  out  yard 
upon  yard  of  fine  Indian  lawn,  and  lastly  she  placed 
two  copper  oil  pots  behind  the  muslin. 

"Allah,  Allah,''  grunted  Rachael,  "Elizabeth, 
dat  klapper  oilie  I  jus'  gort  by  de  ole  slave  who 
kom  an'  hes  no  tongue.  He  speak  by  die  fingers 
—  like  dis.  Ach  fooi !  Rachael  jus'  learn  it  a 
lorng  time  ago  by  old  Massa  Van  Blerk,  dar  by 
Newlands.  Ole  Rachael  was  Ayah  by  Massa  Van 
Berk's  se  child.  Majuba  he  know  Rachael  werry 
much  love  klapper  oilie  for  de  hair,  and  good  India 
muslin.  But  mar,  Elizabeth  he  gort  a  treasure  by 
Rachael  —  hard  to  part  with.  Assuredly,  Rachael 
gave  him  but  half  what  he  wanted.  Nie,  who  he 
work  for,  Rachael  doesn't  know  —  preeps  by  Myjn- 
heer  Van  Breda  —  dardie  fat  little  man.  Kom,  we 
go  see  what  trash  dey  sell  to-day."  Elizabeth 
helped  the  old  hag  collect  her  treasures  into  a  tin 
lacquered  box,  and  hobbled  after  her  into  the  slave 


CAPE  CURREY  27 

market,  munching  aromatic  lollipops  collected  from 
behind  Rachael's  stall. 

Among  the  crowd  surging  Into  the  great  hall  of 
the  Slave  Market  was  Michael  Van  Breda,  his  high 
shrill  voice  always  the  center  of  a  surrounding  of 
admirers  and  cronies.  He  pushed  his  way  to  the 
auctioneer  who  stood  at  the  foot  of  a  trestle  table 
at  the  end  of  the  hall.  The  man  had  a  red  flushed 
face  and  held  papers  In  his  hand.  On  the  table 
stood  an  Intense  little  man  obviously  out  of  place, 
with  Impertinent  nose  and  Intelligent  forehead. 
Round  this  group,  gazing  In  open-mouthed  wonder, 
stood  the  slaves  who  were  waiting  their  turn  of 
sale.  Michael  Van  Breda  pushed  his  fat  good- 
humored  way  to  the  forefront  of  the  audience. 

"  Vat  die  Deuvel,"  ...  he  began,  "  Mar  Mr. 
Pringle,  dat  you  should  den  seize  such  opportunities. 
Do  you  den  vant  my  sambrel  for  a  vIp?  " 

The  person  addressed  as  Pringle  paused  In  his 
oratory,  and  with  a  Scotch  accent  turned  on  Michael 
Van  Breda. 

"  By  gom,  Mr.  Van  Breda,  Sir,  hold  your  peace. 
For  it's  you  and  yourn  that  has  seen  the  best  of  your 
days  in  this  land.  It's  no  by  giving  two  acres  o' 
your  worrst  land  to  my  countrymen  thaat  I'm  getting 
at  ye.  An'  It's  no  for  trafficking  with  these  pui 
ignorant  black  children  thaat  I'm  getting  at  ye. 
These  sins  will  find  ye  out  In  their  order,  for  the 


28  CAPE  CURREY 

Scotch  Is  stronger  than  the  French  blood  in  ye. 
And  these  black  children  will  grow  up  and  turn  on 
ye.  No,  Michael,  It's  In  the  seats  of  the  Mighty  that 
there's  blackness  and  wickedness,  but  they  canna 
kill  me  nor  what  Is  at  the  back  o'  me.  The  Press 
canna  be  killed,  not  by  all  the  Governors  on  earth: 
NO,"  he  roared,  "  an'  It's  the  Press  what'll  kill  ye 
In  the  end.  It  will  be  dragging  out  yer  secret  sins, 
it'll  be  putting  ye  up  for  sale;  It'll  be  loosing  yer 
chains  ye  pur  black  heathen,"  ...  he  turned  his 
head  aside  and  addressed  the  grinning  slaves. 

Michael,  apparently  the  only  man  who  dared  in- 
terrupt, laughed  a  great  hearty  laugh.  "  Ha,  ha, 
Mr.  Pringle,  take  care  man  dat  we  do  not  put  you 
with  your  countrymen  out  dere  In  Tafel  Bay. 
Dere's  no  power  vat  can  land  dose  settlers  here, 
Mr.  Pringle,  unless  die  storm  does  It  for  dem." 

He  turned  away  leaving  Mr.  Pringle  to  continue, 
and  edged  his  way  towards  his  own  slaves  whom  he 
had  come  to  buy  back.  He  whispered  to  young 
'Piet.  "  Yong  Plet,  you  start  a  sorng  an'  I  will  buy 
you  back;  see." 

Young  Piet  grinned.  "  Yaa,  Baasie,  yong  Piet 
see."  And  then  from  somewhere  In  that  room  be- 
gan a  dull  minor  murmur  with  all  the  Insidious 
suggestion  of  suppressed  temperament,  of  some  tem- 
per not  akin  to  the  Western  moods,  ridiculous  words 
locally   manufactured,    only   accentuating,   by   their 


CAPE  CURREY  29 

simplicity  the  hidden  fire  and  fury  and  smouldering 
something  these  people  of  mixed  bloods  kept  hidden 
from  their  masters. 

The  murmur  rose  to  a  comprehensive  song  and 
became  a  chorus: 

"  MIj  maa  iss  die  —  die  valk  wid  die  Penguin  eggs 
Mij  paa  iss  die  —  die  valk  wid  die  Krombeen 
Mij  naam  iss  Lahingo  Hoy, 
Mij  naam  iss  Lahingo  Hoy,  Hoy, 
Chlrie,  chirie,  chirie,  wid  die  Kreuwaar 
Die  Kaapse  Coolie  boy." 

All  the  grinning  slaves  were  singing  and  beating 
a  wonderful  syncopated  rhythm.  Mr.  Pringle 
stormed  on,  then  stopped.  Even  his  righteous 
covenanting  blood  tingled  to  the  swelling  rhythm  of 
the  East.  The  East-Coast  natives  took  up  the  end 
of  the  ditty  in  the  hoarse  soundless  voice  of  their 
races;  pure  black,  these,  untinged  by  Portuguese, 
Malay  or  Dutch,  save  perhaps  a  trace  of  the  rare 
Arab  blood,  Swahili,  Zulu,  and  Kaffir.  Imperturba- 
ble, huge,  bronze  giant  men,  whose  rare  speech  is 
among  the  beautiful  languages  of  the  world,  whose 
diction  is  perfect,  whose  exquisite  similes  and  picture 
language  can  find  its  parallel  only  in  the  writings  of 
the  Old  Testament.  They  sang,  or  rather  almost 
spoke  their  deathless  curse,  insulting  in  its  superb 
aloofness. — 


30  CAPE  CURREY 

Baam,  Zonda.     Baam  Zonda, 
Zonda  Bantu,  Bogai  Nagatu. 

The  auctioneer  pulled  the  tight  blue  trousers  of 
Mr.  Pringle.  *'  They  are  working  up  to  trouble. 
Soon  they  will  Intoxicate  themselves  with  their  own 
singing.  Come  down.  I  implore  you."  Mr. 
'Pringle  shrieked  above  the  din :  "  This  is  your  do- 
ing, Michael  Van  Breda,  slave  dealer,  EngHsh  lick- 
spittle. Mr.  Bishop  Burnett  shall  hear  of  this. 
Damn  ye."  He  hopped  down  and  out  into  RIebeeck 
Square,  but  caught  MlchaePs  fat  laugh;  "  Dat's  die 
beste  word  you  say  to-day,  Mr.  Pringle  —  Yaa, 
Man  doet  vat  man  kaan." 


CHAPTER  III 

How,  IN  A  Garden,  a  Secret  was  Kept  from  the 
World 

Like  a  vast  gray  screen,  Table  Mountain  rears 
Itself  behind  the  town. 

*'  In  the  beginning,"  announced  the  Honorable 
Georglana  to  the  ever  surprised  audience  at  a  coffee 
drinking  party,  "  In  the  beginning  God  created  the 
world  and  Table  Mountain." 

It  suggested  respect,  which  came  as  an  unexpected 
thing  from  Georglana.  She  refused  to  leave  the 
audience  swallowing  this  pill,  but  sent  It  down  with 
a  bitter  draught. 

Her  audience  was  assembled  in  the  small  English 
drawing-room  of  Mrs.  Crawford,  a  lady  who  chap- 
eroned Georglana  when  half  an  occasion  presented 
Itself  —  sometimes  when  there  was  no  occasion  at 
all,  for  her  husband  was  Master  of  the  Cape 
Hounds,  and  for  daily  bread,  held  various  small 
and  promiscuous  billets  as  a  Government  official. 
Mrs.  Crawford  said  that  her  husband's  talents  had 
driven  her  to  daily  prayer,  because  she  felt  that  if 
bread  was  forthcoming  it  came  most  certainly  by 
the  Grace  of  God. 

31 


32  CAPE  CURREY 

She  had  three  daughters:  she  told  her  acquaint- 
ances she  regarded  all  as  future  nuns,  as  their  father 
would  never  allow  them  to  marry  Cape  Dutchmen, 
and  in  a  year's  time  there  would  be  no  Englishmen 
left  at  the  Cape  the  way  things  were  being  run. 
They  were  nice  girls,  with  decent  complexions  and 
enquiring  noses,  brought  up  In  strict  English  fashion 

—  lots  of  soap,  no  butter,  and  back-boards;  and 
their  outlook  on  life  seemed  as  yet  untinged  by  their 
ultimate  destiny.  They  formed  a  silent  and  appre- 
ciative part  of  Georgiana's  audience  at  their  mother's 
parties.  Mrs.  Crawford  had  caught  from  the  late 
acting  Governor,  Sir  Rufane  Donkin,  the  habit  of 
conciliation,  though  she  stooped  only  to  conquer  the 
ladles,  and  was  famous  for  her  conventions,  with 
much  show  of  fuss  and  feathers. 

"You  dull  Dutch  dears,"  ("devils,"  Georglana 
whispered  into  Dutch  Aletta's  ear,  continuing  the 
subject  of  the  mountain)  "  do  rise  up  in  the  midst 
of  your  eternal  coffee-drinking  and  call  it  blessed 

—  you  should  sing  your  psalms  with  your  shoes  off, 
and  your  faces  to  the  mountain."  They  smiled  at 
her,  without  even  wondering  what  she  meant,  though 
It  sounded  clever  or  a  Httle  bit  mad.  "  Fey,"  they 
called  it.  And  then  her  enthusiasm  overstepped 
diplomacy.  "Oh,  but  fie!  Fie!  I  vow  you  hve 
only  for  your  rix  dollars,  your  slaves  and  your  Kon- 
felts  —  you  do  not  care  for  your  country  excepting 


CAPE  CURREY  33 

when  It  means  more  rix  dollars."  And  then  Aletta's 
exquisite  Dutch  hand  covered  the  Impetuous  little 
English  mouth  that  so  constantly  uttered  true  say- 
ings and  kept  Lord  Charles  in  a  perpetual  state  of 
conciliation. 

Georgiana  slapped  it  away.  "  You  know,  Aletta, 
you  do  not  love  this  land  —  none  of  you  would  dare 
bother  to  keep  it,  and  every  one  of  you  was  content 
to  be  sold  to  us  for  thirty  pounds  a  head." 

Tears  raced  down  her  cheeks  and  she  beat  the 
heavy  chintz  cushions  with  both  emphatic  hands. 
*'  Oh,  you  terrible  people  —  I  do  love  it  so  —  I  do 
love  it  so.  But  you  are  a  distracting  people,"  she 
snlffe.d  with  finality,  despairing  of  them  as  a  race. 

Never  had  a  country  fermented  a  race  out  of  such 
divers  clay.  The  Portuguese  swept  clear  their 
Southern  end  of  the  continent  when  In  the  14th  cen- 
tury they  rounded,  the  seas  of  the  two  oceans  with 
the  copy  of  a  famous  map,  a  century  old,  as  their 
Inspiration  and  guide,  past  the  Cape  of  Storms  to 
India.  Some  adventurous  spirits  had  come  so  far, 
but  few  within  the  memory  of  man  had  gone  further. 
Still  these  were  their  authorities  —  Marco  Polo, 
Macodi,  the  Moor,  who  had  made  the  map  they 
held;  Jacombe  of  Majorca  and  the  Jew,  Abraham 
Lakut.  Prince  Henry  of  Portugal  spared  neither 
labor,  time,  nor  energy:  he  was  their  grand  inspira- 
tion; he  and  his  dream  —  to  plant  the  Cross  on  new 


34  CAPE  CURREY 

headlands.  The  Crescent  had  Invaded  his  world, 
therefore  he  carried  his  Cross  Into  the  utmost  cor- 
ners of  the  globe.  His  Captains  crept  up  fever- 
bordered  rivers,  others  sailed  by  odd  and  devious 
ways  for  India,  via  Alexandria,  others  tried  the 
northwest  passage  to  India. 

It  was  Bartholomew  Diaz  with  two  small  ships, 
short  of  food  and  water,  with  more  bravery  than 
knowledge,  who  burst  Into  the  India  Ocean  and 
planted  a  Cross  very  near  the  lands  that  were  giving 
so  much  anxiety  to  Lord  Charles  Somerset,  lands 
that  have  been  for  generations  battlefields;  Port 
Elizabeth,  or  Algoa  Bay  —  the  way  to  Goa  In  the 
East.  On  his  way  home  to  report,  Diaz  stopped  at 
Cape  Point,  the  end  height  of  the  Cape  Peninsula 
Mountains,  and  scarred  a  gigantic  cross  Into  the 
mountain;  and  the  Inhabitants  of  the  land,  small, 
shy  yellow  people,  watched  from  behind  big  rocks, 
and  did  nothing  but  watch  In  terror. 

The  tremendous  Pageant  of  Discovery  met  at 
last  in  the  little  City  of  Lisbon;  but  Diaz'  news  had 
been  almost  anticipated  by  the  world-famous  letter 
confided  by  Cavllhao  —  stunned  by  the  glories  of  his 
discoveries  of  the  great  Indian  trade  from  Aden 
onwards  —  to  the  jew  Lakut,  who  brought  it  to  the 
King.  "  Keep  southward,"  ran  this  letter,  "  persist, 
Africa  must  come  to  an  end."  *'  And  when  the 
Eastern  ocean  is  reached  let  them  ask  for  Sofala 


CAPE  CURREY  35 

and  the  Island  of  the  Moon  (Madagascar)  and 
they  will  find  pilots  (the  great  Arab  fleet)  to  take 
them  to  Malabar." 

Then  Vasco  da  Gama  went  to  the  great  scarred 
Cross,  and  planted  another,  a  wooden  one,  on  the 
shores  of  Table  Bay,  and  had  doings  with  the  scarab 
worshipping,  wall-painting,  jabbering  little  people, 
until  he  found  that  with  beads  and  spices  the  natives 
became  friendly,  and  offered  him  the  entrails  of  wild 
beasts,  to  show  their  friendliness. 

Following  the  Portuguese  came  the  Dutch  and  the 
English,  friends  until  they  reached  the  East;  then 
blows  and  fighting,  both  using  the  Cape  as  a  halting 
place  on  the  road  to  the  East.  It  remained  for  the 
Dutch  to  note  its  value.  They  sent  Van  Riebeeck 
his  wife,  children,  and  a  Company  —  a  romance,  this 
shipload  of  fools  and  heroes.  From  a  little  fort  in 
the  dunes  these  people  grew  fresh  vegetables  for  the 
passing  ships,  and  the  scurvy-stricken  crews  drew 
fresh  water  from  their  wells  or  remained  in  the 
Fort  Hospital  to  recover.  When  the  Stadholder 
of  Holland,  fleeing  to  his  brother  William,  in  Eng- 
land for  safety,  brought  with  him,  metaphorically, 
the  Key  to  the  Dutch  Colonies,  England  undertook 
to  hold  the  Cape  until  such  time  as  the  Stadholder 
should  come  into  his  own.  At  the  Cape  there  was 
some  small  opposition,  but  so  half-hearted  as  to  give 
rise  to  the  suspicion,  that  as  long  as  commerce  was 


36  CAPE  CURREY 

not  Interfered  with,  either  flag  did.  Later,  the 
Dutch  flag  flew  again  and  still  none  minded.  Then 
the  great  days  of  the  Napoleonic  Wars  brought  this 
Tavern  House  into  such  importance  that  England 
found  it  necessary  to  be  quite  sure  that  the  French 
flag  should  not  be  added  to  the  list  of  owners  of  the 
valuable  strip  of  mountain  and  seashore.  The 
Battle  of  Blauuberg,  fought  between  the  English  and 
the  Dutch  under  Jenssens  reinforced  by  French 
troops  on  the  sands  beyond  Cape  Town  Castle, 
proved  really  a  battle  —  and  the  Cape  was  ceded  to 
England  for  a  certain  sum  of  money.  Once  again 
the  Union  Jack  flew  over  the  Castle  walls.  The 
romance  of  its  history  would  insult  the  Cape  were  it 
only  to  be  told  in  this  condensed  and  unromantic 
form;  fortunately  the  people  who  made  world  his- 
tory wander  in  and  out  of  its  centuries  and  join  the 
distant  Tavern  of  the  S'eas  to  the  war-fermenting 
countries  of  Europe: — seared,  scarred,  and  riddled 
with  wcunds,  like  a  pack  of  old  fighting  dogs  ever 
ready  to  jump  at  a  quarrel,  one  or  other  breaks 
loose  and  bites  into  new  worlds,  and  the  poison  of 
civilization  runs  through  a  fair  land. 

Georgiana's  unfortunate  reference  to  the  sale  of 
the  Cape,  for  that  is  what  It  amounted  to,  was 
gossiped  about  that  same  day  at  the  Society  House ; 
the  valuation  of  each  worthy  merchant  and  burgher 
seemed  low  at  thirty  EngHsh  pounds.     But  what 


CAPE  CURREY  37 

matter  what  Government,  when  business  went  on 
better  under  the  new  regime!  Lord  Charles  added 
another  Alde-de-Camp  to  his  staff,  a  young  man 
named  Penderby  —  nominally  A.D.C.,  in  reality,  as 
Lord  Charles  put  it,  "  to  edit  at  formal  gatherings 
the  speeches  of  the  Honorable  Georgiana." 

On  their  way  to  a  conciliation  gathering  at  Mrs. 
Crawford's,  Miss  Somerset  and  Penderby,  riding 
through  the  Gardens  of  the  Company,  passed  an- 
other riding  party,  and  Miss  Somerset  smiled  Into 
the  astonished  face  of  the  new  Aide-de-camp  with 
all  the  bravery  of  a  pretty  woman  piqued  and  flus- 
tered by  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  thin  little  man 
who  made  up  in  charm  what  it  seemed  impossible 
to  ignore  he  lacked  in  sex.  Having  James  Barry  as 
its  chief  glory,  the  quaint  procession  proceeded  up 
the  steep  Buitenkant  Street  towards  the  Table 
Mountain  —  Psyche,  the  spaniel,  waddling  and  pant- 
ing, and  oblivious  to  the  packs  of  half  wild,  half 
starved  dogs  who  came  tearing  down  the  mountain 
slopes,  howling  and  barking,  to  their  goal  at  the 
water's  edge,  Rogge  Bay,  where  at  sunset  and  sun- 
rise they  gorged  on  the  offal  and  decaying  fish  that 
lay  on  the  beach  after  the  Malay  fishermen  had 
drawn  in  their  heavy  nets.  Barry  turned  off  Into 
a  mountain  path  leading  into  that  part  of  the  town 
called  Orangezlcht.  Skirting  the  homestead  of  the 
Bredas,    they   passed   through   a   wonderful   bit   of 


38  CAPE  CURREY 

wooded  ground,  where  gray  granite  boulders, 
clumps  of  prickly  pears  and  wild  olive  bushes  formed 
the  picturesque  wilderness. 

In  one  of  the  deep  fissures,  where  a  mountain 
stream  ran  wildly  down  into  the  town,  a  group  of 
Malay  washerwomen,  clapping  and  rubbing  the  linen 
on  the  rocks,  chattered  and  laughed  over  their  work. 

Soon  Barry  dismounted,  left  the  pony  with  Black 
Sam  and  continued  his  climb  on  foot.  Orangezicht, 
true  to  its  orange  color,  was  blazing  in  the  sun;  far 
below,  the  town  lay  in  evening  mist.  Music  broke 
the  intense  mountain  silence,  music,  quaint,  fantastic, 
suggestive  of  the  East,  with  gaiety  only  accentuating 
sadness,  rhythm  all  syncopated;  not  the  music  of 
white  men.  Ajt  the  high  white  walls  of  a  homestead, 
Barry  stopped.  Great  masses  of  cerise  and  ma- 
genta bougainviHia  creeper  almost  hid  a  small  grated 
door  In  the  wall.  Barry  fitted  a  key  Into  the  lock 
and  walked  Into  the  loveliest  garden  In  all  Cape 
Town.  The  garden  was  built  like  an  arena,  in  ter- 
races; each  terrace  bordered  by  a  trim  laurel  hedge. 
A  thick  shrubbery  of  pink  Chinese  roses  (called 
oleander.  In  other  countries)  with  palest  sky-blue 
plumbago,  screened  the  white  wall.  In  the  center 
of  the  arena,  on  a  velvet  lawn  shaded  by  orange 
trees,  a  slave  band,  dressed  gaily  In  white  Bengalese 
fashioned  garments  with  brilliant  turbans,  made  the 


CAPE  CURREY  39 

extraordinary  music.  An  old  slave,  less  Malay  than 
the  others,  carried  some  rimpje  seats  from  the  high 
white  stoep  of  the  dwelling  house,  thatched  and 
gabled  In  old  Colonial  style.  There  was  something 
remarkable  about  the  slaves  —  they  were  all  men, 
all  very  serious,  all  quite  silent. 

Barry  looked  down  upon  the  scene. 

"  It  Is  one  of  the  few  things  that  grow  worse 
with  time,"  he  spoke  slowly,  and  his  face  became  like 
the  face  of  some  other  person.  The  strain  of  the 
muscles  relaxed,  as  though  relieved  of  an  Intense 
responsibility  they  dared  resume  ease  and  relief; 
the  prominent  blue  eyes  moistened,  a  smile  of  Intense 
sadness  broke  the  severity  of  the  peaked  face,  and 
hurrying  down  the  grass  slopes  he  caught  In  his  arms 
a  small  beautiful  boy. 

"  Dear  heart,  dear  heart,"  he  whispered,  "  You 
are  glad  to  see  me?  You  have  been  happy?  The 
music  has  amused  you?  " 

The  boy  struggled. 

**  Oh,  yes,"  he  gasped,  "thank  you,  thank  you. 
But  I  like  Klein  Adonis  best;  Adonis  Is  the  newest, 
littlest  slave;  as  small  as  me,  so  we  play  together. 
He  Is  easier  to  play  with  than  old  Majuba.  And, 
dearest,  he  talks  I  Just  think.  He  can  talk.  Just 
like  you  and  me  I  I  begged  and  begged,  did  I  not, 
and  now  I  have  a  talking  slave." 


40  CAPE  CURREY 

Karry  sighed  and  turned  to  an  old  slave  who  took 
his  cap  and  white  umbrella.  "  Ah,  Majuba,  let  us 
hope  for  no  evil  results." 

Majuba,  his  fac-e  expressing  all  the  scale  that  lies 
between  good  and  bad,  slowly  and  very  expressively 
shrugged  one  shoulder. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Barry,  "  One  word  too  much, 
Majuba,  and  there  will  be  an  end  of  peace  in  Eden." 

The  boy  ran  off  and  left  B-arry. 

"  How  many  years  Is  It,  Majuba?  " 

The  slave  held  up  both  hands. 

"No,  twelve;  oh,  I  do  not  forget,"  said  Barry, 
sitting  down  on  the  terrace.  ''  Majuba,  sometimes 
I  would  give  my  right  hand  to  have  you  tell  me  all 
you  know.  Of  how  you  served  him  —  of  Old  Cape 
Town  —  how  he  lived  —  and  Majuba,  I  would  like 
to  tell  you  how  I  live,  but  then  that  would  be  a  mon- 
strous unpleasant  story  and  I  doubt  not  the  very  last 
story  I  should  ever  tell  —  and  then  there  would  be 
no  one  to  care  for  the  little  one,  but  you,  Majuba," 
—  he  patted  the  old  slave  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Are  the  slaves  happy?  I  pay  them  well,  any- 
how—  but  this  new  boy?  I  don't  like  it  —  I  fear 
the  consequences  though  It  gives  him  so  much  happi- 
ness. God  knows  I  owe  him  some  happiness."  His 
old  impatience  returned.  "  Oh,  you  old  dumb  devil ! 
Do  not  stand  looking  like  a  Sphinx  and  a  Nemesis 
combining  to  give  me  the  nightmare.     Look  to  it 


CAPE  CURREY  41 

that  no  harm  comes  of  this  little  talking  monkey." 

Then  he  turned  again  to  welcome  the  boy,  who 
had  returned,  carrying  a  little  bow  and  some  small 
silver  arrows.  The  child  sat  down  on  the  coarse 
Cape  turf,  whose  long  solid  "  feelers  "  seemed  per- 
petually to  be  seeking  the  moisture  denied  them 
all  through  the  long  summer  months;  though  water 
from  the  two  deep  wells  in  the  back  orchard  garden 
and  the  swift  mountain  stream  in  the  oak  woods,  be- 
yond the  white  walls,  kept  the  garden  greener  than 
most  of  the  gardens  of  the  town. 

"  Sit  down  beside  me,  dearest,"  said  the  boy. 
**  See  Klein  Adonis  has  changed  my  dear  red  and 
black  arrows  —  nicer  to  have  new  arrows.  What 
do  you  call  the  color  of  these  arrows,  dearest?  "  he 
continued,  fingering  the  sharp  silver  things. 

*'  Silver  .  .  .  the  color  of  the  s  ...  no.  Why 
run  over  there,  beloved,  to  that  pale  tree  there  — 
now  look  up  —  what  do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Oh,  silver,  silver,"  screamed  the  boy.  "  It's 
a  silver  tree.  What  is  its  name  —  the  name  of  this 
tree?  "  flinging  himself  on  the  grass  again  beside 
Barry. 

''Come  —  I'll  whisper  the  surprise," — bending 
down. 

"  Oh,  oh,"  cried  the  child.  "  Is  that  true.  It 
is  called  a  Silver  Tree.  Why?  Why?  Why? 
Do  tell  me!     You  see  Adonis  will  not  know;  and 


42  CAPE  CURREY 

my  books  will  not.  Oh,  please  tell  me  the  true 
story.  And  do  they  grow  in  other  gardens,  these 
trees,  or  on  the  mountain  behind?" 

*'  Yes,  they  grow  on  the  mountains.  Majuba," 
speaking  on  his  fingers,  "  bid  the  music  cease!  " 

"  This  is  the  story,  my  poor  little  child.  Listen! 
Once  upon  a  time  there  was  given,  in  a  far-off  coun- 
try, on  a  high  mountain  called  Olympus,  a  wedding 
feast;  for  Orpheus  was  to  wed  Eurydice." 

*'  What  is  wed,"  asked  the  boy. 

"  Orpheus  was  to  take  Eurydice  to  live  in  his 
house  and  to  play  with  him  in  his  garden  —  to  be  his 
wife." 

"  Was  Eurydice  a  little  black  boy  like  Adonis?" 

"  No,  Eurydice  was  a  lovely  woman." 

"  Oh,  what  is  a  woman?  " 

Barry's  face  puckered.  ''  A  gentler  creature  than 
a  man  —  with  kind  arms  made  to  hold  little  boys 
and  girls  —  and  long  soft  hair,  and  —  what  is  it, 
my  child?"  The  boy  had  hidden  his  face  In  the 
grass,  and  his  small  body  shook. 

"  I  wish  for  a  woman,"  he  bemoaned,  '*  I  wish 
to  see  a  woman,  the  thing  that  is  kinder  than  a  man. 
I  want  to  be  held  in  the  arms  of  a  woman.  No  - — 
no,"  as  Barry  involuntarily  bent  over  him  with  out- 
stretched arms,  "  your  arms  are  kind,  dearest,  but 
—  oh,  why  may  I  not  see  this  woman?  "  Suddenly 
he  sat  up. 


CAPE  CURREY  43 

"Are  there  woman  slaves  —  white  ones,  like  you 
and  me?  " 

Barry's  pale  eyes  looked  down  the  steep  grass 
terraces. 

"  No,"  he  said. 

There  was  silence  for  some  moments. 

Then  — "  Why  am  I  always  alone  here,  with  black 
people?  Adonis  says  that  he  remembers  when  he 
was  littler,  that  he  saw  many  houses  and  gardens, 
and  a  vast  well  of  water  called  '  The  Sea,'  whereon 
are  black  tortoises  that  crawl  through  the  Sea  and 
cover  their  heads  with  white  capples  which  flap  in 
the  wind." 

"  Monstrous  unpleasant  tale  It  seems  to  me.'' 

"  No,  but  listen  —  further.  He  tells  me  that  he 
lived  with  a  father  and  a  mother  and  brothers  ,  .  . 
only  one  day  a  person  called  '  Mynheer  Doctor  ' 
came,  and  they  spoke  to  him,  the  father  and  mother 
of  Klein  Adonis,  and  then  Klein  Adonis  came  to 
live  here  and  be  my  speaking  slave.  What  Is  a 
mother?" 

"  A  woman,"  replied  Barry,  rising  as  if  he  would 
leave. 

"  Can  a  woman  be  a  mother  —  as  well  as  being 
a  woman?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  then,  can  she  be  a  wife,  and  a  woman,  and 
a  mother?  " 


44  CAPE  CURREY 

"  Yes." 

"  How  wonderful.  But  there  are  too  many 
things  to  know.  It  makes  my  head  ache.  Let  us 
rather  play.  But  I  forgot  —  there  is  the  tale  of 
Or  .   .   .  what  was  it?  " 

"  Never  mind  now.  I  will  tell  you  the  tale  an- 
other time,  and  one  day  when  I  cannot  come  to  you, 
I  will  write  to  you,  in  big  plain  letters.  Now  we 
will  go  and  shoot  with  these  .  .  ." 

"  Silver  arrows,"  interrupted  the  boy. 

He  clapped  his  hands  to  call  the  slaves.  Sud- 
denly he  looked  at  his  hand  and  held  it  up. 

"  Dearest  —  this  hand  will  not  clap  as  loudly  as 
the  other  one;  sometimes  it  does  not  feel  like  a 
hand." 

Barry  looked  at  the  boy's  hand  and  then  left  him 
and  walked  towards  the  house,  where  old  Majuba 
was  carrying  baskets  of  oranges  down  to  the  Musi- 
cian slaves. 

Their  conversation  was  conducted  through  the 
medium  of  the  finger  language. 

"  The  child's  hand  ...    ?  " 

"  Yes,  very  sad,"  replied  Majuba,  shaking  his 
white  head. 

"  The  new  oil  given  by  the  ship's  doctor  — 
brought  from  Borneo  —  you  have  used  it?  " 

"  Yes  —  that  and  also  the  sweet  odored  black 
bark  given  by  Malay  Hajh  and  only  parted  with 


CAPE  CURREY  45 

by  the  aid  of  many  gold  pieces  and  a  small  piece 
of  dirty  '  lap,  '  ^  long  treasured  by  a  woman  slave 
met  at  the  slaves'  market,  said  to  be  a  portion  of 
the  robe  of  Sheik  Joseph,  the  holy  man,  whose  tomb 
lies  near  the  Hottentot  Mountains.  For  a  few 
yards  of  India  muslin  and  some  large  quantity  of 
'  Klapper  Oilee  '  and  a  sheaf  of  rlx  dollars,  she  was 
persuaded  to  part  with  the  '  Lapple.'  " 

*'  Sir,  but  It  was  a  dirty  old  lap.  All  has  been 
done  that  can  be  done.     The  boy  Is  happy." 

With  the  unconscious  rudeness  of  an  old  servant, 
Majuba  again  picked  up  his  orange  basket  and  pro- 
ceeded to  walk  down  the  garden  to  the  other  slaves. 
As  Barry  let  himself  out  at  the  little  garden  gate 
and  pushed  his  way  through  the  undergrowth  of 
protea  and  stringy-leafed  gladioli,  towards  the  ap- 
pointed spot  of  waiting  for  Black  Sam,  Psyche  and 
the  pony,  he  muttered  over  and  over  again  to  him- 
self:  "  Wonderful  to  be  a  wife,  and  a  woman,  and 
a  mother  ...  a  woman  .  .  .  and  a  mother!" 
Then  he  pulled  himself  up  suddenly.  "  Yes,  won- 
derful !  But  the  devil  take  It  all.  It  Is  sometimes 
a  damnable  enough  business.  It  Is  less  damnable 
to  be  a  man." 

•"■  "  Lap  "  is  a  Cape  dialect  word  for  old  cambric,  or  literally  rag. 
"Klapper  oilee" — cocoanut  oil,  used  profusely  by  all  Malay  women 
for  their  hair. 


CHAPTER  IV 

An  Interview  in  a  Vineyard,  Which  Results  in 
Many  Suspicions 

On  the  slopes  of  Lion  Mountain  which  screens 
the  Town  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  the  slaves  were 
picking  the  grapes  In  the  opulent  vineyards  of  Myn- 
heer Zorn  of  Leeuwenhof. 

The  song  of  the  pickers  disturbed  the  placid  blue 
atmosphere;  from  the  huge  cellars,  under  the  oaks 
round  the  courtyard  floated  strains  of  the  ^'  tread- 
ing song,"  sung  In  parts,  by  the  low  voices  of  the 
slaves  —  a  long  descriptive  epic  wherein  the  virtues 
and  vices  of  all  the  household  were  divulged,  fall- 
ing and  rising,  according  to  the  temper  of  the  day. 

"  The  Master  Is  like  a  rotten  orange." 

"  The  Mistress  is  like  a  very  big  pomegranate." 

*'  Ja-Ja-Swa  dra-Swa  dra !  " 

Never  far  from  the  dismal  minor  key  these  songs; 
they  seemed  ill-fitted  to  be  sung  under  a  blazing 
sun  on  the  high  ground  above  the  sea. 

The  Zorn  slaves  were  mostly  Madagascans,  or 
from  the  Straits;  huge  men  and  women  In  the  Zorn 
uniform   of  purple   and  white.     It   is   strange   to 

46 


CAPE  CURREY  47 

know  to  what  degrees  of  trade  the  big  landowners 
and  their  wives  resorted,  in  those  1820  days.  They 
found  a  word  for  the  legitimized  bargaining  — 
*'  smouching  "  mostly  indulged  in  by  the  women. 
The  wife  of  a  rich  merchant  and  the  owner  of 
pretty  slave  girls,  packed  up  a  weekly  hamper  of 
what  every  woman  knows  another  woman  will  want, 
and  hied  forth  the  slave  to  her  neighbor's  home- 
steads, to  sell  her  wares;  and  if  the  neighbor's  hus- 
bands found  wares  not  included  in  the  baskets  (and 
the  pretty  slave  hoping  to  get  at  least  a  something 
out  of  the  bargain,  seldom  objected),  well,  who  is 
to  blame  any  one  in  the  matter,  least  of  all  the 
slave,  who  very  often  was  not  allowed  even  a  few 
cents  on  the  main  transaction.  The  morality  of  the 
merchant's  wife  who  came  off  best  in  the  deal,  was 
to  be  judged  by  1820  morality,  and  by  the  amount 
of  gossip  which  history  collects  in  its  long  roll 
through  centuries. 

Mijnfrau  Zorn  held  herself  above  such  trading, 
and  placing  herself  and  her  rival  in  virtue,  Mijnfrau 
Breda,  on  a  high  pedestal,  allowed  no  pretty  slaves 
on  the  Leeuwenhof  estate,  and  when  Marie  Focus' 
daughter  Sana  was  sold  to  neighbor  Bam,  she 
breathed  more  freely.  But  she  packed  the  fruit  and 
vegetables  more  elegantly  into  the  huge  swinging 
baskets  that  hung  from  the  shoulders  of  the  men 
slaves,  who  ran  down  the  steep  hillside  every  morn- 


48  CAPE  CURREY 

ing,  into  the  RIebeeck  Square,  crying  the  glories  of 
the  Zorn  gardens. 

Dirk  Zorn,  her  son,  saw  Sana's  departure  In  a 
different  spirit,  and  because  of  It,  sat  under  a  bank 
of  pomegranate  trees  that  edged  the  vineyards,  and 
Marie  Focus,  the  slave,  stood  before  him.  She  had 
a  wonderful  face,  this  Marie !  Her  Father,  It  was 
rumored,  was  a  disgraced  Viceroy  In  the  Indies,  her 
mother  a  Malay,  with  French  blood  In  her  veins. 
The  English  had  used  Marie  as  a  spy  before  the  an- 
nexation of  the  Cape. 

It  suited  Master  Dirk  to  get  Marie  Focus  deep 
in  her  grievances;  true,  it  became  a  bigger  tragedy 
than  he  had  the  taste  for,  for  Marie  was  dramatic, 
had  lost  her  child  and  had  heard  some  rumors,  which 
Master  Dirk  was  not  going  to  ignore  without  using 
them  for  his  little  scheme  and  to  the  best  advantage. 

*'  Master  Dirk,"  said  Marie,  speaking  the  per- 
fect English  of  the  older  slaves,  her  eyes  glowing 
under  her  purple  turban,  "  Master  Dirk,  I  say,  curse 
these  English  and  the  Dutch  too.  All  liars.  All. 
All.  I,  Marie  Focus,  work  here,  where  I  sold  all, 
risked  all.  Master  Dirk,  to  gain  freedom.  When  I 
was  working  by  the  Fiscal,  before  he  became  Justice, 
the  English  came  sailing  into  the  Bay.  I  was  in  the 
garden  one  day,  picking  green  figs  for  preserve,  when 
a  sailor  boss  come  along,  quietly,  behind  the  wall  — 
much  money  it  seemed  to  me  he  offered  —  I  must  go 


CAPE  CURREY  49 

down  to  the  sea  —  must  go  on  to  the  ships  —  to  the 
English  ships.  And  there  I  went.  If  I  was  caught ! 
You  know  what  happened  to  the  runaway  slaves 
out  at  Boshof,  Master  Dirk,  and  the  slaves  from 
Welgelegen!  Ah,  but  I  hear  the  cries  now,  and  I 
heard  them  then,  Master  Dirk  —  how  they  tried  to 
catch  Movo,  you  remember?  How  he  ran,  round 
and  round  the  courtyard  —  Oh  —  I  remember  well. 
The  English  wanted  to  know  where  was  the  treasure, 
guns  and  silver  taken  from  the  Castle  and  hidden 
by  the  Fiscals  —  I,  Marie,  knew.  '  You  tell,'  they 
say,  '  and  then  we  will  give  you  freedom  and  send 
you  back  to  the  East.'  I  told  Master  Dirk.  I 
took,  that  night,  the  Captain  to  the  big  stone  wine 
cellar  below  the  kitchen,  and  in  one  of  the  vats  was 
the  treasure  —  much  silver  and  some  gold.  Next 
day,  the  English  sailor  and  soldiers  came  to  the 
house,  and  the  Fiscal  —  well.  Master  Dirk,  you 
know  now  he  Is  a  friend  of  the  Governor.  Marie 
Focus  Is  still  the  slave." 

"  Marie,  you  know  Sana  goes  to  the  Rainbow 
dances  now?  " 

*'  No,  Master  Dirk,  I  have  not  seen  Sana  since 
she  has  been  with  Mynheer  Bam." 

"Sana  Is  not  with  Mynheer  Bam,  Marie;  have 
you  not  heard?  " 

"  Master  Dirk,"  said  Marie  Focus,  "  If  you  are 
going  to  speak  the  things  I  hear  from  the  slaves  who 


50  CAPE  CURREY 

go  down  to  the  *  stadt '  you  must  not.  No,  no, 
Master  Dirk,  for  then  my  heart  must  die." 

"  Marie,  listen,  don't  speak  like  that.  Stop  it, 
Marie,  listen !  Mynheer  Bam  has  been  given  one 
of  the  Governor's  horses,  and  Sana  is  working  In 
the  Governor's  kitchen." 

Marie  Focus  shrieked  so  loudly  that  Dirk  got  up 
and  placed  his  huge  leghorn  sun  hat  over  her  head 
and  held  it  down. 

*'  Marie,  woman,  be  silent,"  he  panted,  because 
Marie  was  a  strong  woman,  and  also  she  had  but 
once  sold  wares  not  included  in  the  smouching  bas- 
ket. Only  once,  and  she  had  been  very  faithful  to 
the  memory  of  the  ensign  of  dragoons,  who  had  been 
stationed  at  the  Castle  many  years  ago.  And  then 
Dirk  Zorn  whispered  things  to  Marie  Focus  that 
were  talked  of  at  the  Rainbow  dances,  where  the 
slave  girls  found  fresh  admirers  among  the  young 
burghers  and  soldiers  and  citizens  of  Kapstaad, 
things  whispered  even  then,  laughed  about  in  the 
taverns,  where  men  left  Veneer  on  the  doormat  and 
often  went  home  without  it;  he  whispered  so  cleverly 
to  Marie  Focus  that  soon  these  things  would  be 
placarded  up  in  the  streets  of  Cape  Town,  written 
to  London,  and  gloated  over  by  the  discontented 
Boers  and  Scotch  settlers  in  the  new  Eastern  Prov- 
inces. 

Dirk  Zorn  was  a  poet  too,  which  made  it  worse, 


CAPE  CURREY  51 

for  he  made  pictures  glow  with  color  and  throb  Into 
reality.  Dirk  Zorn  loved  one  woman,  a  young  girl; 
but  then  girls  were  loved  very  young  In  Kapstaadt 
when  It  was  1820.  Dirk  at  sixteen  had  loved  Aletta, 
Aletta  loved  the  English,  was  always  with  the  little 
doctor.  Captain  Cadogan  or  the  Governor's  daugh- 
ter, but  Aletta  listened  to  his  stories,  read  his  love- 
letters,  and  pushed  him  from  her.  Dirk  wanted 
more  than  appreciation  and  vowed  to  have  Aletta. 
In  the  meantime  Sana  had  done  very  well;  now  he 
was  deprived  of  both. 

So  this  all  bred  some  pretty  little  tales,  as  you  may 
think!  A  mad  woman  and  a  jealous  Dutchman  In 
a  hot  vineyard,  with  the  scent  of  the  trodden  grapes 
coming  from  the  hot  cellars  In  great  Intoxicating 
fumes;  the  hot  scorched  red  earth  beneath  them 
bursting  in  long  red  fissures,  the  atmosphere  danced 
and  glowed  between  their  heights  and  the  town  far 
below.  From  brains  to  feet  those  two  kept  pace 
with  their  world,  all  hot  and  strong  and  pulsating. 

Unfortunately  for  every  one  concerned  In  the 
tragedy,  Dirk  wandered  down  to  the  Orangezlcht 
woods,  to  sit  in  the  shadow  of  the  mountain,  per- 
haps to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Aletta,  and  so  he  met 
Barry,  walking  alone  and  quickly  through  the  woods 
with  unseeing  eyes,  his  mind  fixed  upon  the  treasure 
he  kept  hidden  in  the  white  walled  garden. 

No  one  will  ever  analyze  that  source  which  is 


52  CAPE  CURREY 

stirred  Into  action  by  the  hidden  impulses,  so  eflfect- 
ually  hidden  until  just  the  one  psychological  moment 
of  betrayal  arrives.  It  may  never  arrive — but 
sometimes,  the  very  concentrated  state  of  mind  be- 
trays Its  own  secret,  the  air  Is  filled  with  the  desire 
always  more  Intense  where  secretive,  the  other  mind 
leaps  into  subconscious  deduction  —  vague  and  elu- 
sive—  and  half  the  secret  Is  shared!  So  Barry, 
rushing  away  from  his  secret,  yet  filled  with  it  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  else,  suddenly  set  alight  some  vague- 
ness of  suspicion  in  the  sub-consciousness  of  Dirk's 
mind. 

It  was  an  unfortunate  affair,  because  all  these 
Ideas  assume  shape  some  time  or  other,  and  the 
imagination  does  the  designing.  Dirk  meant  to  re- 
member it  and  did. 

Marie  went  to  a  "  smouching  "  slave  friend  of 
hers  who  went  often  to  Government  House,  and 
learnt  slave  gossip  and  the  gossip  of  the  Club  House, 
''  how  Miss  Somerset  was  In  love  with  the  little 
Doctor,  but  that  he  went  to  Government  House  only 
to  see  Lord  Charles,  how  the  new  Ladyship  was 
*  too  much  on  the  horseback  '  to  trouble  about  what 
went  on  In  her  house  —  that  Dr.  Barry  made  love 
to  all,  but  never  went  to  the  Rainbow  dances,"  and 
so  on. 

More  unfortunate  still,  that  an  ex-convict  named 
Edwards,  lately  out  of  prison,   sat  drinking  Cape 


CAPE  CURREY  53 

Constantia  wine  in  the  tavern  called  The  George 
Inn  in  the  Water  Kant  Street,  and  writing  male- 
dictions on  Somerset,  destined  to  appear  In  the  new 
free  press  edited  by  Fairbairn  and  Greig  and 
Thomas  Pringle,  he  whom  the  Governor  regarded 
as  a  prying  negrophllist  rapidly  undoing  his  admin- 
istrative work  along  the  unsettled  borders  of  the  na- 
tive territory.  As  Edwards  wrote,  he  stopped  to 
look  up  and  through  the  big  windows  on  to  the  sea- 
shore—  as  if  fearing  detection;  once  he  glanced  at 
the  walls  of  the  George  Tavern,  where  dirty  papers 
pinned  to  the  panelling  did  the  duties  of  a  town 
crier  and  an  advertisement  column.  He  read,  "  a 
charming  young  widow  makes  known  the  death  of  a 
tender  husband  and  adds  a  piece  of  '  negotle  winkle  ' 
—  In  consequence  of  the  death  will  be  sold,  etc. 
.  .  ."  (here  followed  a  list  of  the  advertised  shop- 
goods). 

Edwards  laughed;  after  some  years  of  prison  the 
behavior  of  fellow  humans  in  ordinary  life  was  a 
burlesque  that  kept  him  busy  chuckling  more  than 
half  the  day. 

"  Notice,"  he  read:  "  A  worthy  widow  sorrows 
over  the  death  of  a  husband  —  aged  ninety-two. 
No  person  must  console  with  me. 

MlJNFRAU  VAN  DER  LiND, 
90,  Van  Riebeeck  Square.'' 

''Poor,"  thought  Edwards,  and  continued: 


54  CAPE  CURREY 

"A  rich  widow  —  wanting  consolation/*  He 
took  down  the  address,  which  goes  to  prove  that  the 
capacity  for  seizing  the  opportunity  which  sometimes 
makes  a  convict,  might,  with  the  smallest  diversion, 
make  a  successful  man. 

Edwards  reads  on: 

''For  sale!  A  Chinese  coachman,  apply  Zorn, 
Leeuwenhof." 

"  Zorn  of  Leeuwenhof.  Ah,  yes,  the  girl  Sana 
came  from  Leeuwenhof." 

And  Edwards  took  down  another  address.  What 
is  this?     More  sequels  to  my  little  story?  " 

"Notice:  Mynheer  Bam  will  run  the  famous 
horse  Kutuhof,  lately  the  property  of  H.E.  The  Gov- 
ernor, at  the  summer  meeting  at  Green  Point  Com- 
mon on  Monday." 

If  all  these  links  seem  dull  and  unnecessary  they 
fit  into  the  quaint  machinery  that  landed  Edwards 
once  more  a  convict  in  New  South  Wales,  drove 
Surgeon  Major  Barry  away  from  Cape  Town,  in- 
fluenced the  despotic  governing  of  Lord  Charles, 
and  made  Miss  Georgiana  Somerset  and  Aletta  Van 
Breda  play  bigger  roles  in  the  jeu  d'amour  et  de 
hazard  than  is  often  given  to  two  young  women  to 
attain. 

The  beginning  of  it  all  is,  that  Edwards  finished 
his  pamphlet  that  evening  in  the  George  Inn.  It 
was  destined  to  work  much  mischief,  and  afterwards, 


CAPE  CURREY  55 

when  it  was  dark  he  went  to  a  big  barn  outside  the 
boundaries  of  the  town  below  the  Craig  batteries  on 
the  Devil's  Peak,  to  dance  at  the  Rainbow  dances, 
where  he  met  the  melancholy  Dirk  Zorn  and  heard 
the  story  of  Marie  Focus  and  Sana. 

Edwards  had  grievances  against  all  Governments, 
and  Dirk  and  Marie  specialized  in  theirs,  therefore 
Lord  Charles  Henry  Somerset  would  soon  have 
further  difficulties  to  face,  which  for  a  gentleman 
who  was  a  better  judge  of  a  horse  than  any  man  in 
England,  Johnny  Mytton  included,  was  a  case  of  a 
Tory  Government  getting  a  good  man  in  a  bad 
place.  Tory  Governments  have  so  often  demanded 
great  sacrifices  of  their  disciples;  but  then  to  make 
Colonies  and  to  keep  them  is  an  achievement  of  a 
nation,  and  Is  independent  of  Governments,  who 
have  been  known  to  play  battledore  and  shuttlecock 
with  half  a  continent;  and  the  winds  of  the  moment 
had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it. 

Unfortunately,  His  Excellency,  colonizing  hard 
and  making  his  boundaries  sure,  introduced  good 
horseflesh  at  the  same  time.  Such  surplus  of  talent 
upset  many  Tories  who  suffered  from  the  overde- 
veloped sentiment  of  the  Whigs.  A  man  who 
reared  race-horses,  and  suffered  missionaries  with 
a  bad  grace,  especially  those  who  embraced  the 
black  man  living  on  the  borders,  who  wished  to 
control  the  Press  in  a  small  Colony  where  jealousies 


56  CAPE  CURREY 

made  politics,  who  rewarded  the  Dutch  loyalists  (or 
disloyalists,  whichever  way  you  take  it)  and  drank 
coffee  in  their  homes  in  the  West,  while  hundreds 
of  sturdy  Scotchmen  and  English  settlers  were  try- 
ing to  plow  the  African  veldt  as  if  it  were  an  Eng- 
lish field,  in  the  East  (having  had  land  and  plows 
provided  for  them)  well,  analysis  of  such  a  char- 
acter only  ended  in  the  way  such  contradictions  do : 
when  one  Is  up  against  a  wall  one  can't  see  over, 
one  curses,  or  else  begins  to  knock  It  down. 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Governor  Explains  the  Motto  in  the  Language 
OF  A  Gentleman 

The  Governor  leant  back  In  his  chair  and  cursed. 
No  man  In  England  or  out  of  It  cursed  better,  longer, 
or  louder  than  Charles  Henry  Somerset. 

These  were  some  of  the  reasons  for  the  cursing. 
Some  of  them  appeared  In  a  former  chapter;  all 
to  do  with  an  inconsiderate  Home  Government, 
starving  emigrants  and  such  like,  and  to  these  were 
now  added  worse  news  reported  by  Bird,  Colonial 
Secretary,  news  of  hurricanes  In  Algoa  Bay,  dis- 
content and  disaster  In  the  new  Eastern  Province 
town  of  Grahamstown,  where  poor  Harry  Rivers 
—  God  help  him  —  was  endeavoring  to  work  mira- 
cles among  the  emigrants  with  some  loaves  and  a 
few  small  fishes.  A  band  of  proselytizing  mls- 
sloners,  with  hearts  where  their  brains  ought  to  have 
been,  were  disturbing  the  volcanic  frontier,  where 
much  British  money  and  a  few  frontier  settlers  held 
peace  and  some  order.  His  own  son.  Major  Som- 
erset, wrote  from  Grahamstown  that  he  would 
rather  cope  with  the  discontented  Boers  than  with 
this  low  lot  of  grumbling  emigrants  — "  hardly  a 
one  can  shoot  or  guide  a  plow,"  he  wrote,  "  and 
they  are  encouraged  by  a  low  Scotch  poet  who  thinks 

57 


58  CAPE  CURREY 

himself  a  Bobble  Burns  ^  ...  to  say  nothing  of  a 
would-be  gentleman  named  Burnett,  who,  on  arrival, 
insulted  Reynolds,  and  wrote  the  enclosed  on  poor 
Harry  Rivers  —  who  I  should  advise  you  to  release 
of  his  thankless  task.  Also  this  same  Burnett  hav- 
ing been  helped  in  his  farming  —  God  save  the 
mark  I  —  is  busy  writing  complaints  which  may  reach 
the  Government." 

Somerset  read  the  couplet : — 

*'  On  an  inflated  account  of  the  Rivers  in  South 
Africa." 

"  While  floods  unf  athomed  o*er  the  Globe  abound 

Our  Afric  rivers  all  are  shallow  found: 

But  here  each  stream  assumes  an  upstart  flow 

From  puddles  —  brooks  —  from  brooks  what  Rivers  grow! 

The  great  Fish  swells  with  Amazonian  pride 

And  Kowie  roils  a  Mississippi  tide. 

Delightful  fancy!     That  can  thus  bewitch 

And  pour  a  Ganges  through  a  Stagnant  ditch 
Spreads  a  vast  lake  where  turbid  streams  arise 
And  give  to  wastes  the  beauties  of  the  skies 
Bait  a  camp-kettle  for  a  fry  of  fish, 
And  .  .  .  dam  an  irrigation  at  a  wish! 

*'  Poor  Harry  Rivers!  so  the  land  Is  not  opulent 
enough  for  these  damned  settlers.  It  seems  that 
Nature  in  Africa  is  profusely  lavish  only  to  its 
women  and  its  sheep,  for  I  have  nowhere  seen  fatter 
ones.     But  we  must  see  to  this  lampoonist." 

1  Thomas  Pringle. 


CAPE  CURREY  59 

The  Governor  turned  to  more  grumblings  when 
Georglana,  In  a  riding  habit,  tripped  into  his  room. 
She  sat  herself  on  the  edge  of  his  table.  His 
*'  Well,  Miss,"  opened  the  conversation,  which 
bubbling  for  some  hours  in  the  bowl  of  Miss  Som- 
erset's brain,  took  little  time  to  fizzle  out. 

"  Charles  Henry  Excellency,  do  I  give  a  man  four 
dances  twice  a  month  to  be  insulted?  Little  devil  I 
He  made  me  break  several  most  valuable  engage- 
ments — "  a  tear  trickled  becomingly  down  her  cheek 
— "  and  then  when  I  ask  him  to  explain  his  ridiculous 
motto  — "  and  here  followed  a  very  one-sided  and 
somewhat  prejudiced  account  of  the  bone  that  was 
flung  to  the  dog. 

"  My  dear,  be  calmed!  What  all  you  charmers 
see  In  Barry,  for  the  life  of  one  I  can  never  Imagine. 
What  a  sad  sight,  Indeed,  when  a  sober  little  man 
will  put  on  the  appearance  of  a  rake.  Bless  me,  a 
man  has  only  to  assume  the  dress  of  a  rake,  drink  a 
little  too  much  without  being  a  sot,  and  the  whole 
lot  of  you  —  the  wise  Georglana  included  —  come 
tumbling  down,  virtuously  —  crossly  —  as  It  suit 
you.  Well,  my  dear,  what  am  I  to  do?  Introduce 
my  precious  Inspector  General  to  Father  Stick  and 
his  six  children  —  which  shall  it  be?  Cat  o'  nine 
tails?  Ropes  and  Strap?  Cane?  Ferrule  —  or 
the  Birch,  to  suit  this  naughty  young  thing?  " 

Georglana's   brows  brooded   Intolerance    of   the 


6o  CAPE  CURREY 

joke.  "  I  am  extremely  anxious,"  she  said,  "  to  be 
taught  the  exact  translation  of  the  word  '  Sottise.* 
Tell  me  what  the  whole  silly  thing  means?  II  ne 
faut  jamais  faire  des  sottises  a  demi." 

"  You  are  right,  me  dear,  and  well  said  —  a  silly 
thing.  And  if  you  are  wanting  a  familiar  equiva- 
lent: '  When  you  get  into  the  divil  of  a  pickle,  be 
damn  plucky  enough  to  see  it  through  to  the  end.' 
Poor  little  Barry!  " 

The  Governor  added  these  irrelevant  words  and 
started  another  thought  in  his  daughter's  brain. 

"  Charles  Henry  Excellency,  the  Dutch  Theater, 
tired  of  the  '  Mysteries  of  Udolpho,'  are  seek- 
ing a  new  Comedy  calculated  for  the  perts  of  the 
place.  I  have  it:  ^A  Dialogue  between  father 
and  daughter  ' ;  very  sprightly,  a  little  sprinkling 
of  something  bitter  in  it  —  sparsely  sprinkled  — 
not  too  much,  in  keeping  with  fatherly  advice  and 
filial  obedience,  for  the  authors  fear  that  they  could 
easily  throw  down  distinction  —  eh?  Is  it  true, 
Charles  beloved,  that  you  have  sold  Kutuhof  to 
old  Bam?  Why?  I  love  Kutuhof.  Aletta  says 
Dirk  Zorn  said  you  had  a  passably  good  quid  pro 
quo.  But  then  Dirk  Zorn  knows  all  the  Cape  gos- 
sip. I  have  my  suspicions  how  he  comes  by  it,  too. 
Papa,  is  it  a  true  story  —  that  tale  of  Marie  Focus, 
the  slave?  " 

*'  Damned  true,  my  lady:  but  better  colonists  have 


CAPE  CURREY  6i 

died  before  justice  has  been  done  them.  How 
would  you  have  it  otherwise,  Georgie?  Things  are 
reported  to  the  Home  Government;  in  six  months 
time  they  reply,  and  in  a  new  country  six  months 
counts.  It  was  the  same  pretty  little  business  in 
the  Amsterdam  Council  days.  All  grievances,  etc., 
were  reported  to  Holland  or  Batavla.  Sometimes 
a  year  later  they  sent  a  Commissioner  to  settle 
things  —  but  that  seldom  happened,  and  then  there 
was  divil  a  bit  to  settle.  In  six  months  people  for- 
got what  their  grievance  was." 

"  Not  Marie.  She  works  In  the  Zorn  vineyards 
and  her  daughter  Sana  was  with  the  Bams.  Papa, 
Dirk  Zorn  was  mysterious  about  Sana.  What  a 
boy  for  mysteries !  He  is  secretive  of  all  but  of  his 
devotion  to  Aletta,  and  she  will  not  look  at  him. 
He  even  hints  things  of  Dr.  James !  " 

Lord  Charles'  keen  blue  eyes  left  those  of  his 
daughter.  "Ah  —  things  of  Barry.  M'dear? 
You  surprise  me !  " 

"  Aletta  says  Dirk  — " 

"  Oh,  damn  Dirk:  really.  Miss,  your  conversation 
is  worthy  of  a  kitchen  maid  —  Dirk  this  and  that 
—  Aletta  this  and  that.  Mysteries!  Suggestions! 
Would  that  I  could  haul  up  all  the  damned  liars  in 
this  town,  or  supply  honest  labor  to  give  'em  some- 
thing to  talk  of.  Jove  !  Fm  working  out  my  share 
of  Hell  in  this  foul-mouthed  Colony.     I  am  almost 


62  CAPE  CURREY 

persuaded  to  encourage  freedom  for  the  slaves,  and 
make  all  these  lazy  potentates  do  some  of  their  own 
labor.  Georgle,  when  Mr.  Keppel  leaves,  we  pack 
up  and  go  to  the  Round  House  with  the  horses,  my 
girl.     In  fact  we  will  go  this  month." 

Georgiana  clapped  her  hands.  "  Hurrah  I  Hur- 
rah! the  darhng  Lion's  Head  above  us  with  its 
crown  of  silver  trees:  the  Round  House  nestling  in 
the  firs  like  a  big  white  pigeon,  and  the  sea  below  I 
Oh,  Charles  Excellency,  how  I  love  this  land.  We'll 
take  Dr.  James,  won't  we?  and  Aletta,  and  Captain 
Cadogan  for  Aletta  to  flirt  with." 

"  And  for  you,  my  lady?  " 

Georgiana's  mouth  pursed  into  the  smallest  affair 
in  the  world,  the  lids  of  her  blue  eyes  drooped  at 
the  corners  — 

"  AJi,  Mr.  Keppel  might  be  persuaded  to  ride  with 
the  Poulett  ladyship,  leaving  His  Excellency  to  the 
appreciative  Georgiana.  Dear  fussed  one  — "  and 
she  laid  her  head  on  his  arm  — "  what  are  lampoons 
and  colonists  and  slaves  and  gossips  but  things  to 
escape  from,  on  the  back  of  good  horses  —  escape 
to  the  mountains  —  to  the  sea.  Aletta  says  Dirk 
says  —  oh  dear  Heavens,  there  I  go.  .  .  .'^  She 
bent  and  whispered  — "  that  Dr.  James  knows  the 
Mountain  well,  and  spends  some  hours  every  day 
exploring.  It  has  so  inspired  Captain  Cadogan  that 
he  has  accepted  a  wager  from  Mr.  Breda  to  ride 


CAPE  CURREY  63 

up  and  down  Table  Mountain.  Impossible,  of 
course,  and  I  fear  Aletta  will  not  even  weep  over 
his  mangled  body  —  an  unpleasant  prospect  —  oh 
Excellency!  We  have  promised  to  drink  coffee  at 
Orangezicht  some  day  before  the  wedding  — " 

"  I  danced  last  night  with  the  bridegroom  —  oh, 
la !  la !  —  he  spoke  much  of  his  lady,  called  her  by 
most  endearing  epithets !  Imagine  the  man  who  I 
was  to  marry  telling  me  that  I  was  as  fat  as  a  pig! 
and  I  hearing  It  with  pleasure  and  appreciation ! 
But  I  am  not  sure  that  my  other  Dutch  partners 
were  more  brilliant!  Dirk  Zorn  danced  opposite 
In  a  quadrille  and  sulked  as  much  as  to  be  noticed, 
while  Captain  Joslas  entertained  me  with  small  talk 
on  the  value  of  a  rlx  dollar.  Joslas  can  be  exceed- 
ingly heavy.  But  your  clock  goes  wondrous  fast. 
I  hoped  to  have  time  to  tell  you  that  I  should  cure 
this  petlt-maitre  of  his  mistake,  and  turn  my  valuable 
attention  to  something  bigger." 

As  she  left  the  room  Captain  Joslas  Cloete,  very 
pink  In  the  face,  very  much  military  and  otherwise 
secretary,  standing  In  the  doorway,  went  three 
shades  pinker. 

"  Mr.  Keppel  dines  here  to-night,  Sir,"  he  stam- 
mered. 

"  Ah,  yes  .  .  .  zounds  I  It's  time  to  dress. 
Here,  Georgie  love  .  .  .  my  respects  to  her  lady- 
ship, and  tell  her  the  dinner  Is  en  garqon.     We  shall 


64  CAPE  CURREY 

look  to  see  you  all  afterwards  .  .  .  and  have  you 
been  hunting?  "  noticing  her  dress  for  the  first  time. 

"  Yes,"  said  Somerset,  *'  cannot  you  persuade  your 
dear  Dutchmen  to  support  the  club?  If  it  were 
not  for  our  decaying  Indians  It  could  not  go  on." 
She  passed  out  with  this  little  hit  at  Joslas. 

Somerset  looked  at  Cloete.     Very  tall,  very  fair 

—  having  no  appearance  of  a  rake,  being  a  Dutch- 
man. 

''Eh?  "he  said. 

"Oh,"  said  Captain  Joslas,  four  times  pinker: 
the  degrees  of  comparison  were  unlimited. 

The  Governor's  turn  came  again.  "  It's  a 
damned  pity  you  Dutchmen  cannot  achieve  to  look 
more  like  rakes.  You  can  swear  well,  Joslas;  the 
devil,  It's  true,  turned  himself  Into  an  angel  of  light 
to  achieve  his  purpose ;  but  go  and  borrow  the  waist- 
coat and  cravat  of  the  devil!  Appear  my  good 
Joslas  as  half  a  devil,  and  upon  further  enquiry, 
be  discovered  either  a  male  virgin  or  appear  to  pos- 
sess mistresses  and  popollies  galore,  to  prove  virtue 
In  parting  from  them;  then  will  your  lady  condone 
worse  offenses  —  ha,  ha, —  a  male  virgin  or  a  mod- 
erate rake.     Here's  advice  for  you,  my  dear  Joslas 

—  you  lazy  pining  Dutchman.  Here  am  I  at  fifty- 
seven  as  I  was  at  twenty-nine,  noted  for  addresses 
and  successes  on  three  hundred  and  fifty  occasions  — 
a  little  too  many,  perchance,  for  a  moderate  rake ! 


CAPE  CURREY  65 

Go  thou  and  do  likewise,  and  turn  the  attentions  of 
Miss  Georgle  from  my  little  surgeon.  Indeed, 
Joslas,"  and  Lord  Charles  got  up  and  gave  his  hand 
to  his  tall  aide,  "  I  should  feel  damned  grateful 
to  you  if  you  should  succeed." 

Joslas  stammered.  "  I  have  not  the  remotest 
chance.  Sir,  I  fear  there  are  too  many  suitors. 
There  was,  Sir,  some  slight  —  er  —  understanding, 
but  my  absence  In  the  Island  of  Tristan  d'Acunah 
has  not  been  advantageous." 

Joslas  Cloete,  destined  to  play  a  queerly  dignified 
role  In  military  history,  in  the  quiet  days  that  suc- 
ceeded Waterloo  was  the  son  of  a  large  estate  owner 
in  Cape  Town.  As  quite  a  boy  he  had  been  sent 
to  Holland  and  England  for  his  education.  Educa- 
tion then  was  almost  nil,  and  very  little  effort  was 
made  by  the  parents  to  supply  the  deficiency  for 
their  children,  even  where  tradition  existed  in  a 
family.  It  was  a  common  enough  thing  to  find 
among  the  Colonists,  Dutch,  French,  and  English, 
the  rapid  deterioration  of  a  family  that  had  sailed 
from  home  with.  If  not  definitely  coronets  on  their 
silver,  good  enough  blood  and  tradition  to  justify 
this  extravagance.  All  sense  of  family  pride  was 
not  lost,  but  the  trouble  of  keeping  up  tradition,  of 
the  personal  teaching  of  good  manners,  even  of  the 
ordinary  civilized  standards  of  convention,  were 
apparently  too  much  for  the  English  colonists,  who 


66  CAPE  CURREY 

quickly  sank  to  the  measure  of  the  old  Dutch  settlers, 
whose  hard  existence,  and  oppression,  by  their  own 
East  India  Government,  had  produced  only  the  es- 
sentials and  fundame^ntals  of  life  with  none  of  its 
pleasanter  adoptions.  Also,  the  original  Colonists 
descended  from  the  Company's  servants,  had  little 
or  no  blood  or  breeding  to  start  on.  The  children, 
often  without  education,  were  left  much  to  the  so- 
ciety of  slaves,  and  rapidly  deteriorated,  catching 
the  little  sly  tricks  and  shady  ways  of  the  slave. 
Much  church  service,  and  the  strap,  never  spared, 
only  hurt  more  definitely  natures  that  were  very 
strong  and  brains  strengthened  by  open  air  and  little 
mental  effort. 

But  a  few  families  preserved  their  traditions*, 
with  certain  Inherited  lands.  Wandering  unfrocked 
*'  predikants  "  or  drunken  Enghsh  exiles  taken  into 
the  family  and  fed,  supplied  a  certain  vestige  of 
culture,  and  as  soon  as  the  boy  was  of  a  certain  age, 
he  was  shipped  off  to  Holland  or  England  for  his 
education.  This  was  the  mistake.  .  .  .  Only  very 
occasionally  the  girls  were  sent  as  well. 

Josias  Cloete,  born  at  Government  House  In  the 
Dutch  days  of  Governor  Sluysken,  was  sent  to  Hol- 
land at  the  age  of  nine,  on  a  Dutch  East  Indiaman. 
To  escape  the  strict  patrol  of  the  Channel,  they 
flew  the  Prussian  colors  and  sailed  for  Emden. 
After  five  years'  private  education  in  Utrecht,  Josias 


CAPE  CURREY  67 

was  ordered  by  his  father  to  proceed  to  the  Military 
College  at  Marlow.  The  Cape  was  now  in  the 
hands  of  the  English,  and  Josias  had  excellent  in- 
troductions. 

Joslas  often  told  the  story  of  his  amazing  journey 
to  England,  the  heavy  penalties  of  Napoleon's  non- 
intercourse  decrees  made  every  scheme  and  precau- 
tion necessary.  Hidden  under  layers  of  *'  turf  " 
or  bricks  of  peat,  used  as  fuel  in  Holland,  In  com- 
pany with  a  Frenchman  and  Comte  Griefenllle,  from 
a  small  fishing  smack  they  landed  at  Yarmouth. 
Then,  in  a  coach  to  London  to  the  Green  Dragon  In 
Bishopsgate  Street.  Joslas  spoke  practically  no 
word  of  English,  but  his  father's  new  friends  took 
charge  of  him  and  he  was  taken  to  St.  James'  Palace 
by  Colonel  Grant  and  presented  to  the  Duke  of  Cum- 
berland, the  Regent's  uncle  and  one  of  the  Gover- 
nors of  Marlow  College.  *'  Butcher  "  Cumberland 
swore  that  Marlow  was  a  "  damned  bad  school," 
and  that  his  own  regiment,  the  15th  Hussars,  was  a 
far  better  one.  A  few  days  later,  the  Dutch  boy 
found  himself  a  Cornet  in  a  crack  English  regiment. 

Years  later,  dancing  one  night  at  Brighton,  he 
saw  Georgiana  and  obtained  an  introduction  to  Lord 
Charles  who  had  just  been  appointed  Governor  of 
the  Cape.  Never  doubting  his  star,  Cloete  managed 
two  interviews,  resulting  in  a  request  from  Som- 
erset to  accompany  him  and  his  family  to  the  Cape, 


68  CAPE  CURREY 

as  his  A.D.C.  But  now,  after  long  service  this 
was  the  first  time  that  the  Governor  had  ever  defi- 
nitely ordered  or  encouraged  him  to  go  in  and  win, 
and  Josias  knew  that  for  the  moment  he  had  not  a 
chance. 


CHAPTER  VI 

How  They  Dine  Mr.  Keppel,  and  of  a  Toast  Given 
AT  THE  Dinner 

At  nine  o'clock  that  evening  Surgeon-Major  James 
Barry  dined  at  the  Government  House. 

The  guest  of  honor  was  Lieut,  the  Honble.  George 
Keppel  on  his  way  to  India. 

To  meet  him  came  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  he 
of  the  undecided  nose  —  Truter;  the  Rev.  C.  Lat- 
robe,  on  a  visit  of  missionary  inspection  at  the  Cape; 
Colonel  Bird  and  Mr.  Alexander,  Colonial  Secre- 
taries, Colonel  Crawford  and  some  officers  from 
the  Castle,  Burgher  Zorn  of  Leeuwenhof  estate  on 
the  slopes  of  the  Lion  Mountain;  some  other  offi- 
cials, with  the  staff,  made  up  the  party.  The  dining- 
room  opened  on  to  a  long,  tiled  verandah  overlook- 
ing the  gardens,  and  the  '*  Avenue,"  the  Vauxhall 
of  Cape  Town,  to-night  all  en  fete,  was  hung  with 
lights  and  decorated  by  all  the  prettiest  women. 
The  dark  silhouette  of  the  mountain  reared  above 
all  this  light  and  laughter,  like  some  brooding  wise- 
souled  Sphinx,  baffling,  yet  suggestive. 

The  "  Avenue  "  that  stretched  the  long  mile  from 

69 


70  CAPE  CURREY 

the  top  of  the  Heerengracht  canal  to  the  foot  of  the 
Mountain,  planted  by  Van  der  Stel,  the  Dutch  East 
Indies  great  and  clever  Governor,  divides  the  "  Com- 
pany's House  "  and  the  "  Company's  Gardens." 
Van  der  Stel  brought  from  Java  the  great-leafed 
oak  of  the  East,  so  different  to  the  small  fussy-leafed 
oak  of  England;  Its  leaves  resemble  more  the  Roman 
chestnut.  One  of  the  shadiest  spots  in  the  Town, 
Its  branches  had  sheltered  the  amazing  pageant  that 
Included  in  Its  rolls  so  many  of  the  greatest  or  most 
Interesting  names  in  history,  that  one  Is  perplexed 
to  find  no  trace  of  their  footsteps  on  the  soil  round 
their  massive  trunks.  .  .  .  Wellington  himself.  Idol 
of  the  English  people  at  this  time,  had  in  fact,  lived 
In  Cape  Town :  Lord  Mornington,  the  Viceroy, 
on  his  way  to  and  from  India :  Crippled  Macart- 
ney, the  Governor,  with  the  entertaining  wife  of 
his  Secretary  Barnard,  the  Lady  Anne  —  a  LIndsey, 
and  the  writer  of  the  popular  ballad  "  Auld  Robin 
Grey  ":  she  at  least  drew  new  blood  from  the  half- 
awakened  land  of  her  exile,  and  to  Prime  Minister 
Melville,  perhaps  to  her  more  than  friend,  she  sent 
letters  that  combine  those  of  a  skilled  diplomat  send- 
ing reports  with  those  of  a  witty  clever  woman  who 
found  some  consolation  in  playing  lead  to  a  small 
audience,  snatching  herself  and  her  reputation,  so 
to  speak,  from  the  fires  of  astonished  London  So- 
ciety  which   scarcely   tolerated   an   unmarried   Re- 


CAPE  CURREY  71 

camler:  therefore,  Hester  Standhope  found  herself 
playing  at  being  Queen  among  the  Arabs,  and  Lady 
Anne  LIndsey  married  young  Mr.  Barnard,  and 
played,  as  I  say.  Lead  to  the  Frivoles  of  the  Avenue 
Vauxhall:  she  left  faint  traces  of  her  small  sandalled 
feet. 

Then  little  greatheart  Harry  Smith  and  stout 
Juanlta,  his  Spanish  wife,  graced  the  Company's 
House :  further  back  still,  the  cursing,  splendid  Gen- 
eral, Davie  Baird:  to  return  again,  that  splendid 
flaneur,  blaguer,  the  Revolutionary  Explorer,  Le 
ValUant,  who  traveled,  not  too  far,  and  carried  a 
make-up  worthy  of  a  Courtier  at  Versailles,  making 
long,  oratorical  discourses  to  the  astonished  savages 
he  encountered.  Earlier  yet,  Drankenstein,  Lord 
High  Viceroy  of  the  Netherlands  In  the  East;  Cap- 
tain Cook  of  England,  who  partook  of  good  Con- 
stantla  wine  on  his  way  round  the  world  —  and  so 
on  and  so  on.  A  goodly  company,  too;  a  goodly 
company  to  have  left  so  little  trace ! 

The  Avenue  Fetes  In  the  days  of  Lady  Anne  Bar- 
nard very  nearly  wrecked  the  Cape  homes  where 
political  derision  was  rife.  Anne  writes  In  her  let- 
ters that  all  the  wives  of  the  Dutch  burghers  danced 
away  merrily  with  the  Staff  and  the  Garrison  in 
the  Avenue,  while  their  husbands  stood  in  Heeren- 
gracht  and  cursed  their  partners. 

Mr.  Keppel  met  Miss  Somerset  on  his  way  down 


72  CAPE  CURREY 

to  the  drawing-room.  Such  a  girl!  pink,  radiantly 
pink,  like  a  Huguenot  rose.  Her  high-waisted 
frock  of  gauze  looped  with  myriad  little  rose-buds, 
she  suggested  the  ideal  heroine,  with  her  face  and 
her  nature  belieing  it  all  the  while.  The  twist  of 
her  nose  matched  the  twist  of  her  witty  little  brain. 
You  started  to  cope  with  your  pink  and  cream 
heroine,  and  were  floundering  rapturously  (were 
you  over  forty),  in  surprises,  and  for  those  who 
thought  to  catch  a  whale  with  a  trout-fly, —  well, 
let  us  mix  our  metaphors  and  talk  of  roses  with 
thorns  —  wild  clambering  briar  roses  that  entangle 
you  in  their  delicate  meshes.  There  you  have  a 
suggestion  of  this  girl  Georgiana.  Mr.  Keppel 
preferred  her  ladyship  (No.  2),  who  was  a  Poulett, 
and  rode  straighter  than  any  woman  he  knew  — 
(he'd  known  her  for  some  time) —  she  rode  straight 
in  the  sense  of  finding  no  fence  too  big  if  she  wished 
to  get  to  the  other  side.  If  Charles  Henry  kept 
up  his  form  and  gave  her  a  lead,  he  supposed!  But 
supposition  was  interrupted  by  sHghted  Georgiana 
who  was  looking  pretty  for  nothing. 

"  I  wish  you  good  evening,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  coming  down?  " 

"  Not  to  dine,"  she  replied. 

*'  What?     Are  we  to  be  deprived  of  all  the  graces 
at  this  feast?  " 


CAPE  CURREY  73 

She  smiled.  He  wasn't  too  dull.  "  No  —  not 
to  dine  —  but  — "  she  lowered  her  voice  with  her 
little  finger  on  her  lips,  edging  with  a  familiar  little 
movement  towards  him.  "  But  I'm  coming  to 
listen." 

*'  To  listen  !  Zounds,  madam  —  and  pray  is  that 
to  be  confined  to  an  unappreciative  keyhole?  " 

**  It  Is  not  a  distinct  habit;  but  I  have  a  vast  deal 
of  interest  in  this  party  to-night.  Pray  Heaven, 
Sir,  you  will  not  hear  me." 

"  Pray  Heaven  I  could  see  you." 

By  this  time  the  Poulett  ladyship  was  far  behind 
in  the  field,  and  he  had  begun  to  wonder  what  color 
Georgiana's  eyes  were  in  the  daylight,  and  how  he 
had  failed  to  appreciate  the  bones  of  a  woman's 
shoulder  blades  —  for  they  rippled  under  Georgi- 
ana's thin  white  skin  better  than  the  sleek  ribs  of  a 
thoroughbred  —  by  Gad !  she  was  thoroughbred  this 
creature.  .  .  .  Therefore  it  is  just  as  well  that  ner- 
vous Mr.  Whitefoote,  he  who  was  editor,  came 
along  to  take  him  off  to  the  dinner  table. 

There  the  conversation  started  with  the  latest 
news  from  St.  Helena,  where  Napoleon  with  falling 
breath  had  cursed  Lowe  and  died,  leaving  ructions 
behind  him. 

Captain  Cloete,  just  returned  from  the  lonely 
island  of  Tristan  d'Acunah,  where  a  small  garrison 


74  CAPE  CURREY 

had  been  sent  for  fear  of  further  Elba  achievements, 
was  bubbling  over  with  his  new  commission  and  the 
good  "  Constantia." 

The  episode  of  the  rib  and  the  bone  started  at 
the  Governor's  end  of  the  table.  Barry  was  in 
the  midst  of  an  outrageous  yarn  wherein  he,  as  a 
swashbuckling,  captivating  hero,  played  havoc  at 
the  last  Assembly  ball. 

"  By  my  Hfe,"  he  chuckled,  turning  to  Mr.  Kep- 
pel,  *'  Josias  over  there  exults  over  having  returned 
to  civilization;  he  ought  to  apologize  for  not  being 
dead.  But  think  of  it,  sir,  think  of  it!  Two  hun- 
dred women  at  that  ball !  and  none  of  'em  disdainful, 
sir!" 

Josias  reddened.  He  had  heard  of  Barry's  many 
dances  with  Miss  Somerset,  even  at  that  distant 
Island  of  d'Acunah.  Every  one  had  heard  the  gos- 
sip of  the  ball  held  the  night  before  In  the  Society 
House.  Barry  had  been  practically  all  the  evening 
at  the  side  of  Georgiana  or  Lord  Charles;  therefore 
it  was  in  bad  taste  to  remark  upon  the  affair  at  the 
Governor's  table  even  under  the  guise  of  his  total 
subjection  of  all  the  young  women. 

The  Governor,  who  always  seemed  over  ready 
to  pass  the  quaint  assertions  (to  say  the  least  of 
them)  made  by  Barry,  turned  the  conversation, 
though  not  too  obviously. 


CAPE  CURREY  75 

"  Whitefoote  tells  me  that  there  Is  a  petition 
afoot  to  use  the  old  Exchange  for  the  Assembly 
Dances,  the  Exchange  which,"  turning  to  Keppel, 
"  In  my  pretty  capital  they  call  the  Den  of  Thieves. 
They  now  wish  to  turn  the  Den  of  Thieves  Into  a 
Temple  for  Terpsichore.  Is  not  that  the  idea, 
Whitefoote?" 

Mr.  Whitefoot,  from  sheer  force  of  habit  was 
on  the  verge  of  translating  this  Into  plain  English, 
and  most  diplomatic  English,  when  Barry  chipped 
in  —  appearing  to  address  only  Mr.  Keppel;  certain 
the  entire  company  overheard  his  remarks. 

"  I  have  heard,  sir,  of  a  Temple  being  turned 
Into  a  Den  of  Thieves;  but  on  my  life,  sir,  I  cannot 
see  why  the  reverse  should  not  take  place :  to  put 
It  In  plain  English,  turn  out  the  money  changers 
and  the  Den  might  become  a  very  holy  Temple !  " 

''  'Pon  my  soul.  If  Barry  doesn't  see  himself  the 
High   Priest,"   said  the   Governor. 

But  Barry  was  not  to  be  suppressed. 

"  A  monstrous  pity  to  have  given  over  the  big 
Hall  in  the  Slave  Lodge  to  those  jabbering  lawyers." 

Chief  Justice  Truter's  nose  turned  a  shade  redder 
and  turned   enquiringly  towards   Barry. 

"  Allemachtig  Doctorje !  but  that  Is  my  temple  I  " 

"  Full  of  thieves,  full  of  thieves,"  murmured 
Barry.     "  Unharmonlous  harangues!  "     His  peaked 


76  CAPE  CURREY 

little  face  wrinkled  and  crinkled  Into  humorous 
lines  and  his  blue  eyes  twinkled  from  across  the 
table  In  answer  to  Truter's  danger  signal. 

The  Inference  might  be  of  reference  to  the  some- 
what shady  part  played  by  his  lordship  at  the  taking 
of  the  Cape  by  the  English,  which  role  was  not 
unremuneratlve  to  Truter. 

Barry  continued:  "  The  Temple  Is  full  of  young 
advocates  declaiming  vehemently  In  the  Dutch  lan- 
guage. By  my  hfe,  the  mind  Is  almost  deceived  Into 
a  belief  that  they  are  arguing  for  Truth,  and  not 
for  Pay." 

Even  the  Chief  Justice  laughed,  and  Mr.  Keppel 
could  have  sworn  he  heard  a  giggle  at  the  keyhole. 

"  We  shall  soon  have  a  greater  commotion,"  the 
Governor  continued,  "  and  poor  old  Truter  can  be 
as  deaf  as  be  damned;  v^^e  are  to  have  our  two  lan- 
guages, loving  each  other  as  brothers  —  Parrots 
and  magpies  chattering  and  echoing  —  Poor  old 
Truter,  another  year  and  you  will  hear  nothing  of 
It,  ha !  ha !  We'll  have  to  pray  Mynfrau  Breda  to 
come  and  help  Truter  —  make  her  Interpreter  in 
chief.  But,  God  bless  my  soul,  here  we  are  letting 
all  our  cats  loose  to  Mr.  Keppel,  who  will  go  back 
to  the  Pavilion  Court  at  Brighton  to  feed  the  gang 
there  with  tasty  morsels  from  my  table.  Anyhow, 
I  have  news  of  a  Commission  of  Enquiry,  headed 
by  long  John  BIgge,  coming  to  nose  round.     Garde 


CAPE  CURREY  77 

a  vous,  George,  or  you  will  be  sent  back  to  this  land 
as  a  Special  Spy." 

Young  Mr.  Keppel  laughed  and  turned  the  con- 
versation: " 'Twas  a  vastly  pretty  young  woman 
we  met  to-day,  Sir,"  he  said  to  Somerset. 

"  We  rode  up  to  Nooitgedacht  and  had  some 
wine  with  old  Van  Breda,"  said  the  Governor. 
"  George  asked  for  tea.  Old  Mynfrau  threw  eyes 
and  hands  to  heaven.  "Tea!  Mij  God!  Teal 
Baboons  ask  for  tea  —  inen  take  wine."  So  there 
we  were,  let  in  for  a  thorough  soopje.^  Aletta  was 
looking  very  elegant  —  her  curls  pinned  m  a  new 
fashion.  She  is  a  big  fllly;  only  about  fourteen,  I 
fancy.  Breda  tells  me  they  call  me  the  "  Jockey 
Governor."  Breeds  quite  good  horse-flesh  does  old 
Breda;  very  fussed  about  his  niece,  Marie,  pretty 
girl,  too  —  marrying  the  Fiscal.  You'll  see  the 
wedding,  we  all  go.  May  and  December  sort  of 
business  —  he  is  quite  seventy  —  though  I  should 
not  criticize !  " 

Barry  interrupted. 

"  Never  have  I  seen,"  he  squeaked,  '*  a  more 
comfortable  prospect  of  happiness." 

"Why  so?" 

'*  Because,  Sir,  to  all  appearances  she  cannot  fail 
of  becoming  a  widow  within  six  weeks  at  farthest." 

Roars  of  laughter  ran  through   the   room,   and 

^Soopje  —  literally:  a  sup,  or  little  dose. 


78  CAPE  CURREY 

Georglana  at  the  unappreciative  keyhole,  was  sent 
hurriedly  up  the  stairs  to  her  own  room  shaking  with 
badly  suppressed  giggles. 

Barry's  shrill  falsetto  rose  above  the  din. 
"  And  on  my  Hfe,  Sir,  I  have  it  on  excellent  au- 
thority that  she  is  so  good  a  hausfrau  as  to  line  her 
wedding  clothes  with  black !  " 

"James!  James!"  from  Lord  Charles,  "are 
these  professional  secrets?  What  will  you  be  say- 
ing about  me,  I  wonder?  " 

Barry  jumped  up  and  stood  on  his  chair,  a  verita- 
ble "  Invisible  " —  his  high  stock  half  covering  the 
lower  portion  of  his  face  —  glass  held  high  above 
his  head. 

"  When  we  come  to  a  Governor 
Silence  is  best. 

So  we'll  tip  him  a  Summerset 
And  pass  on  to  the  rest." 

"  The  rest!     The  rest!  "  roared  the  Company.. 

Josias  Cloete  rose,  very  red,  very  nervous,  the 
opportunity  was  heaven-sent,  as  was  the  inspiration, 
for  he  was  not  given  to  over  much  wit. 

"I  toast  Surgeon-Major  James  Barry  — 

"  Whose  buzz  the  witty  and  the  fair  annoys, 
Yet  wit  ne'er  fosters,  nor  beauty  ne'er  enjoys; 
So  well-bred  spaniels  civilly  delight 
In  mumbling  at  the  game  they  dare  not  bite." 

There  was  a  weighty  silence  in  the  room.     Keppel 


CAPE  -CURREY  79 

hoped  that  Georgiana  had  not  followed  out  her 
program.  Cloete  was  too  astounded  at  his  insulting 
bravery  to  attempt  to  recover  his  presence  of  mind. 
Barry's  face  suggested  pea-green.  The  Governor 
came  to  the  rescue. 

''  A  pretty  compliment  that  for  Psyche,  eh, 
Barry?" 

But  even  Somerset's  wit  could  not  help.  It  was 
so  obviously  not  meant  as  much  for  the  dog  as  for 
the  master.  It  hit  to  a  nicety  the  insidious  atten- 
tions, always  ending  in  some  petty  squabble :  ended 
too,  with  much  apparent  relief,  from  one  side  at 
least,  it  hinted  at  something  fantastic  and  unordlnary 
In  Barry's  nature,  something  to  be  shied  at  before 
one  fell  under  the  acknowledged  spell  of  his  per- 
sonality. 

Barry  replied  slowly,  staring  hard  at  big  Cloete. 

"Mister  Cloete," — emphasizing  the  prefix  — 
"  Mister  Cloete  has  profited  by  his  short  stay  at 
Tristan  d'Acunah  and  has  had  time  to  learn  a  yard 
or  two  of  Mr.  Pope's  fine  satires.  I  will  discuss 
them  with  Mister  Cloete  to-morrow  morning." 

It  seemed  ridiculous,  yet  there  was  reason  enough. 
Once  before  this  sort  of  thing  had  happened  with 
less  definite  cause,  and  Barry  had  fought  a  duel  with 
a  military  Doctor  suffering  from  jaundice,  on  half 
pay  from  the  East;  he  had  established  himself  In 
a  thatched  woodland  cottage  on  the  Newlands  slopes 


8o  CAPE  CURREY 

of  the  mountain  and  had  as  housekeeper  a  strapping 
young  Dutchwoman  — a  widow,  and  not  averse  to 
all  such  gentle  arts  as  could  relieve  the  boredom  of 
this  jaundiced  companionship.  Barry  found  it  a 
convenient  rest  house  on  his  rides  over  the  Bosheuvel 
Silver  Tree  crowned  hill,  on  his  way  to  the  Mili- 
tary Hospital  at  Wynberg.  The  strapping  widow 
being  as  inquisitive  as  the  dear  Wadman  who  loved 
Uncle  Toby,  found  reason  to  find  excuses  to  her 
lord  and  master,  who  though  jaundiced  was  also 
jealous;  these  excuses  tended  to  suggest  Barry  as  a 
harmless  *'  little  nincompoop,"  "  popinjay,"  "  doc- 
torling,"  and  nothing  much  else.  They  satisfied  the 
jaundiced  one,  who  flung  them  at  Barry  the  next  time 
he  called  for  a  ^'  soopie  "  and  started  his  lacka- 
daisical advances  to  the  fair  widow. 

There  was  a  duel  and  the  jaundiced  one  was 
pricked.  This  happened  ne*ar  "  Alphen,"  the  Cloete 
homestead,  where  the  Governor  was  staying  for 
some  shooting.  The  sequel  to  it,  some  say,  though 
the  author  of  the  tale  was  never  traced,  was  that 
the  Governor  sent  for  Barry  and  what  sounded  like 
a  stormy  interview  followed  —  and  then,  goes  the 
story,  a  long,  stout  arm  seized  the  little  man  who 
was  near  the  window  and  the  same  arm  suddenly 
thrust  the  yelling  Surgeon  through  the  window, 
danghng  him  over  a  bed  of  hydrangeas  until  he 
prayed  for  mercy. 


CHAPTER  VII 

In  This  Chapter,  You  Read  of  How  King  Solomon 

Hoodwinked  Sheba,  and  of  How  Little  Things 

Set  a  Light  to  Suspicion 

In  the  Inspired  book  called  the  Koran  Is  written 
a  queer  tale,  which  shows  the  great  Wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon, and  the  great  curiosity  of  a  man. 

It  has  the  misfortune  to  take  these  two  traits  and 
produce  an  unpleasant  little  scheme  by  which  poor 
Sheba  betrayed  commonsense,  and  a  good  deal  more 
than  she  meant  to.  It  is  by  clever  little  simple- 
seeming  schemes  that  we  trap  wild  animals,  and  even 
the  Intelligence  of  the  wisest  woman  could  not  rise 
above  Instinct,  which  is,  In  women,  stronger  than 
vanity  —  though  It  may  make  you  pause  one  mo- 
ment to  consider  It.  And  this  is  the  story  of  how 
the  great  King  Solomon  hearing  a  rumor  he  wished 
to  prove,  forced  the  great  and  wise  Sheba,  to  show 
him.  In  the  early  stages  of  their  acquaintance  more 
than  she  had  probably  ever  meant  to. 

"  There  is  no  physical  flaw  In  this  woman,"  said 
Solomon.  And  naturally  there  was  some  one  to 
confute  this,  for  what  woman  can  hope  to  smuggle 
even  a  pinhead  of  disfiguration  through  life,  un- 
observed?    Therefore,    a    eunuch   had   It    from   a 

8i 


82  CAPE  CURREY 

jealous  harem  lady  or  a  favored  slave,  that  Sheba 
certainly  had  one  defect,  and  that  her  legs  would 
betray  it  —  for  Instead  of  possessing  legs  as  beauti- 
ful as  her  face  and  arms,  they  were  covered  with 
dark  and  thick  hair.  And  Solomon  vowed  to  make 
sure.  Sheba  was,  up  to  then  evidently,  a  Queen  of 
all  virtues.  So  Solomon  prepared  a  great  banquet 
and  invited  Sheba.  But  he  caused  the  great  hall 
that  led  to  the  banqueting  chamber  to  be  covered 
with  glass  and  flooded.  The  water  ran  deep  — 
knee  deep,  and  a  few  Koranic  measures  more  deep, 
and  Sheba  being  a  woman,  held  up  her  gold  and 
purple  and  fine  linen  from  the  water,  and  Solomon 
shuddered!  —  for  the  story  was  indeed  true ! 

That  Sheba  triumphed  in  spite  of  this  little  affair, 
is  not  alone  of  the  Koran,  and,  that  It  goes  to  prove 
that  it  Is  In  small  matters  of  sex  Instinct,  or  vanity, 
that  secrets  are  mainly  betrayed,  has  somewhat  to 
do  with  the  present  story  —  in  which  this  chapter 
has  important  bearing. 

Dirk  Zorn  sulked  along  the  bad  road  that  led 
beyond  the  town  to  the  Rainbow  Re-unions  where 
the  freed  slave  girls  danced,  and  found  fresh  pas- 
tures. There  he  met  Edwards,  who  having  drunk 
much  Cape  brandy  was  ready  to  pour  his  stories 
Into  any  ears. 

As  Zorn  had  as  a  foundation  for  suspicion  the  re- 
membrance of  Barry  rushing  towards  the  walled 


CAPE  CURREY  83 

garden  with  the  Httle  gate,  It  did  not  improve  mat- 
ters, when,  into  the  midst  of  this  rainbow  crowd, 
strolled  Barry,  straight  from  the  dining  table  where 
things  had  been  left  In  none  too  peaceful  an  atmo- 
sphere. Mr.  Keppel  had  come  to  see,  and  Barry 
was  doing  cicerone  with  all  the  impudence  of  what 
His  Excellency  would  have  called  "  a  rip  and  a 
roue."  Barry  never  danced,  nor,  indeed,  spoke  to 
the  habitues  of  this  big  white  barn,  teeming  with 
hot  Dutchmen  and  young  soldiers.  These  Rain- 
bow Dances,  so  called  from  the  mass  of  "  color  " 
assembled,  were  run  by  a  half-caste  Portuguese, 
''  Knobbeltje  "  Vasco,  a  little  ape  creature  with  the 
tops  of  all  his  fingers  off  —  bitten  off  by  himself  was 
the  old  story  told  by  the  Dutch  Mamas  to  their 
naughty  children  for  whom  Vasco  was  a  nightmare. 
Vasco,  sometimes,  when  very  full  of  brandy-wine 
would  speak  of  days  In  the  East  when  he  had  been 
taken  in  his  small  boat  off  the  coast  of  Java  by  those 
odd  people,  more  fish  than  flesh,  the  Klings.  Some 
had  come  out  of  the  water  and  some  had  crawled 
out  from  the  forests,  and  he  had  lived  with  the 
Klings,  much  against  his  will,  and  they  had  cut  off 
his  fingers  to  help  him  swim  better.  It  was  a  pic- 
turesque story.  Anyhow  his  role  In  life  was  pic- 
turesque If  not  quite  pleasant,  and  certainly  very 
lucrative,  for  his  large  barn  at  Rhoodebloom  near 
the  Salt  River  was  one  of  the  first  monuments  of 


84  CAPE  CURREY 

National  Importance,  as  some  wag  had  described 
it.  All  the  prettiest  slave  girls  and  half-castes  fre- 
quented It  twice  a  week,  and  all  the  cadets,  and  young 
landowners,  and  most  of  the  English  came  In  "  to 
watch."  Here  were  Hottentot  girls,  full-lipped, 
soft-eyed,  soft-voiced  small  women,  with  the  dis- 
figuring tuft-like,  tight  hair  hidden  away  under  gay 
handkerchiefs;  here  were  tall  goddess-like  Mozam- 
bique women,  with  naked  limbs,  perfect  as  classic 
statues,  their  soft  Indian  muslin  garments  draped 
and  folded  round  them  like  chitons  and  togas: 
Madagascans  with  long  silky  hair;  half-caste  Java- 
nese in  bright  colored  sarongs:  Cape-Malay 
women,  exquisitely-made,  dainty  creatures,  with 
lustrous  dark  eyes  blackened,  henna-stained  finger 
nails,  yellow  or  green  silk  head  handkerchief  drawn 
low  and  square  over  the  brow,  suggesting  the  East- 
ern veil,  but  ending  short  at  the  neck  and  tied  in  a 
knot;  their  gorgeous  silk  dresses  gathered  full  round 
them,  and  an  embroidered  gaudy  shawl  crossed  over 
their  beautiful  busts,  leaving  their  arms  and  necks 
exposed.  These  were  the  pick  of  the  Rainbow 
Dances:  clever  and  sweet  voiced  and  lithe,  never 
doing  hard  work  —  deft  laundresses,  expert  cooks 
or  ladies'  maids.  A  liaison  with  a  Malay  girl  was 
of  almost  domestic  importance  and  lasted  years, 
as  their  hold  over  their  masters  was  as  subtle  and 
clever  as  themselves;  almost  the  height  of  satisfac- 


CAPE  CURREY  85 

tion  was  reached  by  the  Burgher  who  could  say  that 
he  had  a  Dutch  wife  and  a  Malay  mistress. 

The  great  barn  to-night  was  lit  by  big  bronze 
lanterns  hanging  from  oak  beams,  isolated  lamps 
leaving  dark  corners  where  the  bright  eyes  of  the 
Rainbow  ladies  shone  like  fire-flies. 

Zorn  nudged  the  arm  of  the  ex-convict. 

"  That  Is  the  man  I  told  you  of,"  pointing  to 
Barry. 

'*  Why,  I  would  stake  my  life  that  that  is  a 
woman.  That  looks  more  like  a  woman  than  a 
man!" 

*'  A  woman,  man,  you  are  mad.  That  is  the 
celebrated  "  Cape  Currey,"  who  lives  the  life  of 
a  .  .  ." 

"  I  heard  yesterday  that  the  Governor's  daughter 
was  willing  to  smile  upon  any  kind  of  suit  proposed 
by  Barry,"  said  Edwards. 

"  Suit!  "  laughed  Zorn.  "  I  tell  you,  man,  he  Is 
a  deeper  character  than  Cape  Town  imagines. 
Keeps  an  establishment  on  the  slopes  of  the  moun- 
tain where  he  rides  every  day.  The  strange  part 
is,  that  nothing  is  suspected,  as  his  manners  and 
habits  have  given  him  the  name  of  '  Madame  Barry.* 
I  tell  you,  man,  I  have  watched  this  house  in  the 
woods.  Twice  a  week  an  old  slave  goes  down  to 
the  town  to  buy  supplies,  but  as  he  is  a  deaf  mute 
there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  from  him." 


86  CAPE  CURREY 

*' Thick  as  thieves  with  the  Governor?*'  from 
Edwards. 

"  It  Is  rumored  that  the  Governor  keeps  Barry 
as  a  chief  spy —  There  I  Look!  See  that  girl 
dancing  there — ?"     Zorn  seized  Edwards'  arm. 

A  tall,  slim,  colored  girl  passed  them,  In  the  arms 
of  a  well-known  merchant. 

*'  That  Is  the  ex-slave  Sana,  owned  by  the  Gov- 
ernor, bartered  from  Bam  as  Poplolly  they  say,  in 
exchange  for  one  of  the  best  bred  mares  the  Colony 
has  ever  seen.  Her  mother  is  one  of  our  slaves. 
She  was  the  woman  who  betrayed  the  Dutch  treas- 
ure at  the  time  of  the  Capitulation. —  Found  in  my 
Lord  Chief  Justice's  cellar !  Pretty  little  days  that 
my  lord  fails  to  remember  now.  The  English  for- 
got to  reward  her  —  or  else  were  afraid  that  it 
might  not  be  in  keeping  with  the  conciliation  of  my 
lord  Truter.  Marie  Focus  has  not  forgotten  this. 
She  has  a  suspicion  that  Sana  too  Is  Included  in  this 
game  of  a  mare  for  a  slave  or  a  new  shooting  box. 
Of  course,  the  Governor's  pose  is  highly  clever  — 
would  Improve  the  breed  of  horses  among  us  farm- 
ers —  grants  himself  land  to  show  us  how  to  grow 
wheat  and  coffee  —  grants  land  to  help  fill  the  Treas- 
ury and  the  family  coffers  I  should  venture  to  say. 
Old  man  Pietrus  Marals  —  he  used  to  be  very  In- 
terested in  these  exchanges  —  found  himself  landed 
with  two  worthless  farms  in  the  Caledon  district. 


CAPE  CURREY  87 

Just  the  last  race  day,  the  Governor  driving,  passed 
Pietrus,  sweating  hard,  walking  from  the  Downs. 
The  Governor  stopped  his  carriage. 

'*  May  I  take  you  in,  Pietrus?  " 

"  Nie  wat!  Governortje.  I  have  been  taken  in 
twice  to-day  already  —  and  other  days  too,"  said 
old  Pietrus. 

"Damme!  and  what  have  you  done,  Pietrus?" 
said  the  Governor,  winking  at  his  aide-de- 
camp. 

*'  AUemachtig  Governortje,  I  have  been  finely 
done  I  —  and  other  times  before  to-day,"  said  old 
Pietrus,  all  the  time  speaking  very  slowly,  so  that 
all  round  could  well  hear, 

"  So  the  Commission  of  Enquiry  arrives  in  a  few 
weeks'  time?  "  Edwards  swallowed  his  third  glass 
of  Cape  "  dop  "  brandy.  "  They  shall  hear  some 
amusing  things  during  their  stay.  Burnett,  the 
settler,  has  worked  his  part  in  England,  paving  the 
floor  of  Lord  Bathurst's  room  with  his  letters  and 
protests  —  in  none  too  simple  language  either,  and 
when  I  commence  in  the  very  Free  Press  in  this 
town  —  good-by  to  Somerset,  Somerset  and  Co. — 
though  I  fancy  it  may  be  harder  to  move  the  son 
than  the  father.  Here,  another  glass.  Dirk  Zorn ! 
to  liberty!  and  freedom!"  Edwards  gulped  and 
spluttered  over  the  strong  stuff  and  seizing  the 
waist  of  a  pretty  Malay  girl,  pulled  her  on  to  his 


88  CAPE  CURREY 

knees.  ''  I  takes  the  dark  girl  on  my  knee,"  he 
hummed  and  fell  to  kissing  her  to  the  tune  of  the 
Marseillaise. 

"  Sis!  man!  I  hate  the  smell  of  a  Malay  girl's 
hair;   Klapper  oil — foulest  smell  on  earth." 

Zorn  got  up,  disgusted  with  this  exhibition  of 
freedom  and  liberty.  Dirk  Zorn  in  this  story  fills 
that  difficult  role  of  "  Idiot  traglque  "  :  for  him  ideals 
were  not  to  be  tolerated  in  the  filthy  smell  of  cocoa- 
nut  oil. 

Sana,  the  slave  girl,  walked  by,  swaying  from  the 
hips,  lithe  and  supple.  She  glanced  contemptuously 
at  the  Malay  girl  on  Edwards'  knee,  with  her  stiff 
pompadour  satin  skirts,  which  half  burled  the  pair 
In  their  rigid  masses  —  the  dress  of  the  Malays 
seemed  more  monstrous  In  the  skimp  and  scant  1820 
days.  Sana,  with  the  svelt  figure  of  the  half-caste, 
looked  like  a  bronze  Tanagra  dancing  girl,  three  or 
four  meters  of  Indian  muslin  to  veil  her  charms 
and  a  chain  of  heavy  dull  amber  binding  her  black 
hair. 

"  Malay  trash!  "  she  murmured  as  she  repassed 
Edwards  and  the  girl. 

The  words  maddened  Edwards,  already  more 
than  half  drunk,  he  pushed  the  Malay  girl  away  and 
seized  Sana  by  her  naked  bronze  arms.  She  spat 
in  his  face. 

*'  Sana  doon't  have  doings  by  notaries  and  con- 


CAPE  CURREY  89 

victs!  Sana  belongs  by  die  Governeur:  Hotten- 
tots iss  for  your  kind  of  peoples." 

Edwards  had  her  by  the  throat  before  she  could 
say  another  word,  and  cried  out  that  here  was  the 
Governor's  poplolly:  then  the  room  seemed  sud- 
denly enchanted  —  the  crowd,  gathered  round  the 
principals  of  the  fracas  seemed  possessed  by  devils; 
some  started  sneezing,  others  snorted  and  coughed, 
others  spluttered  and  gulped  and  cursed,  tears 
streamed  down  black  and  white  faces  alike;  tempers 
rose;  the  fracas,  which  seemed  to  develop  into  a  big 
business  frizzled  out  into  personal  physical  desire 
to  escape.  Blinded  by  pain,  dust,  and  tears,  Ed- 
wards loosened  his  hold  on  Sana. 

"  Tut,  tut,  get  away,  girl,"  he  heard  some  one 
say,  and  caught  at  the  speaker  —  the  big  lantern 
had  been  knocked  out  in  the  scuffle.  "  Now  my 
lord  —  keep  clear  of  this  —  shut  your  eyes  —  there 
my  man!  "  The  speaker  freed  a  hand  and  waved 
more  dust  into  the  awful  atmosphere. 

"  God!  it's  pepper!  "  yelled  Edwards,  mad  with 
pain.     His  grip  on  the  creature  he  held  tightened. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  up  to,  Barry?"  Mr. 
Keppel  groped  blindly  through  the  clouds  of  pepper. 
"  This  is  no  man's  game.  Why  not  have  left  the 
fellow  to  me?  " 

Edwards'  arm  stiffened  round  the  little  Doctor's 
body.     Some  one  screamed  shrilly. 


90  CAPE  CURREY 

*'  Stop  it!     You  are  hurting  me!     Ah,  thanks!  '* 

Barry  struggled  into  the  air  on  Mr.  Keppel's  arm. 

"  Some  one  shut  the  door,  otherwise  we  should 
have  been  all  right.  There  might  have  been  mighty 
unpleasant  things  with  that  drunken  notary;  as  it 
is,  nobody  is  certain  what  happened,  and  every  one 
has  hit  every  one  else  —  no  one  run  through;  and 
that  httle  black  bitch  out  of  it  all.  No." —  in  an- 
swer to  Mr.  Keppel's  question  — *'  No  word  of  this 
will  be  heard,  George,  except  at  the  Society  House 
where  all  scandals  and  lies  are  bred,  and  carry  no 
weight.  Besides  it  was  quite  dark.  I  knocked 
down  the  lantern  at  that  end  of  the  room  imme- 
diately. That  Edwards  is  a  well-known  sweep,  and 
is  in  league  with  all  the  discontents  of  the  place, 
and  I  feared  the  consequences  if  anything  was  too 
located.  His  Excellency's  name  is  none  too  sacred 
at  the  present  moment." 

They  jumped  into  the  high  Cape  cart,  waiting 
for  them,  with  Black  Jan  driving,  and  rattled  down 
the  mountain  slope  towards  the  Castle.  The  cart 
jolted  over  the  rough  ground;  every  now  and  then 
Mr.  Keppel  had  a  whiff  of  the  havoc-wroughting 
red  pepper.     He  sneezed. 

*'  Pardon!  "  said  Barry;  "  some  of  the  stuff  still 
about  me." 

"  Do  you  always  carry  this,  Barry?  " 

"  No :  but  it's  safer  to  do  so.     One  never  knows 


CAPE  CURREY  gi 

when  one  may  want  protection  and  I  am  not  natty 
with  my  fists  I  fear;  my  sword  would  certainly  per- 
form murders  on  Its  own  account,  did  I  not  carry  a 
safer  weapon." 

After  the  Rainbow  crowd  had  melted  Into  the 
outer  world,  Edwards  found  Dirk  Zorn  on  the  stoep 
of  the  Hall,  wiping  his  eyes. 

"  MIj  machte,  but  that  was  a  verdomte  trick! 
Who  did  It?  I  could  not  see.  Why,  he  did  not 
knock  you  down,  the  verdomte  coward?  "  For  an- 
swer, Edwards  pulled  something  from  his  pocket. 
"  Some  one  dropped  this  —  you  understand?  That 
Is  to  say  It  dropped  into  my  hand  out  of  the  pocket 
of  some  one  I  held  —  some  one  who  screamed  like 
a  woman  —  the  thing  you  call  '  Cape  Currey.'  " 

He  held  up  the  hand-lantern  which  every  one 
carried  after  dark  at  the  Cape  in  those  days.  "  See, 
on  Government  House  paper  and  written  to-night." 
He  read  it  slowly.  "  God!  "  he  muttered,  ''  God, 
what  a  find  I"  He  tore  up  the  paper.  "  The  thing 
has  given  me  an  idea,  Dirk  Zorn,  and  a  better 
weapon  than  all  Burnett's  evidence.  We'll  rid  the 
country  of  our  gentleman  horse-dealer  and  his 
damned  concubines  and  minions." 

They  started  their  long  walk  back  to  the  town. 
A  strong  wind  beat  against  them  and  the  light  of 
their  lanterns  were  mere  flickering  matches  of  light. 

Edwards  tripped  heavily  over  something  which 


92  CAPE  CURREY 

lay  In  the  pathway,  something  that  cried  and 
moaned,  and  was  silent  again.  Dirk  Zorn  turned 
the  feeble  lantern  light  on  to  the  obstacle. 

"  Marie  Focus!     What  the  devil  do  you  here?  " 

"Is  it  true,  then.  Master  Dirk  —  true  all  the 
stories  told  of  Sana  —  Ooi !  Fool !  Fool !  My 
girl  dancing  in  that  verdomte  place.  I  heard 
things.  Master  Dirk:  many  people,  all  talking  loudly 
as  they  went  past  to  the  town!  Ooi!  Ooi!'* 
The  moaning  and  the  crying  continued. 

Edwards  whispered  to  Dirk  Zorn.  To  him, 
Marie  Focus  was  an  important  witness  and  for  his 
scheme  a  machine  of  the  gods. 

They  took  the  poor,  weeping  slave  between  them, 
along  the  rough  mountain  pathway.  In  the  teeth 
of  the  cold  northeast  wind,  to  Edwards'  lodging, 
in  a  low  Malay  house,  on  the  beach  at  Salt  River 
near  the  Fort  Knoccke. 

And  this  is  the  origin  of  the  famous  and  scanda- 
lous placards  that  were  surreptitiously  hung  in  the 
Heerengracht. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
A  Duel,  and  the  Governor  Betrays  Undue  Anxiety 

It  was  a  short  and  queer  business,  this  duel  that 
had  been  arranged  at  the  Keppel  dinner. 

Cloete  chose  a  quiet  enough  spot,  among  some 
oleanders  and  palms  in  the  old  "  Company's  "  gar- 
dens, opposite  Government  House,  and  brought  the 
nervous  Whitefoote  as  a  second.  Barry  appeared 
with  Black  Sam  and  Psyche  at  ten  minutes  past  the 
hour,  with  a  note  in  his  pocket  written  by  Lord 
Charles  at  two  o'clock  of  that  morning,  begging 
—  well,  here  is  what  the  Governor  wrote:  '*  My 
dear You  are  going  to  make  a  damned  mis- 
take. I  trust  you  will  drop  this  excessive  folly.  I 
fancy  that  personal  feeling  should  be  considered:  and 
then  my  position,  to  say  nothing  of  your  own. 
Cloete  is  a  fighting  cock  and  not  such  a  fool  as  he 
looks.     There  may  be  the  devil  to  pay. —  C.S." 

Cloete  spoke  afterwards  of  his  feeling  like  an 
overheavy-welghted  cock,  matching  himself  against 
a  young  bantam  lightweight  scarce  red  on  the  comb. 
For  all  that,  he  pricked  the  pale  little  surgeon  in 
the  shoulder.  Barry  fainted.  "  Fell  flat  with  a 
squeak!"     Cloete   confided   to   the   trembling  sec- 

93 


94  CAPE  CURREY 

ond,  who  had  had  strict  injunctions  from  Headquar- 
ters to  see  that  nothing  serious  happened.  As  Barry 
fell,  Cloete  strode  forward  and  ripped  the  tight 
uniform  from  his  shoulder,  cursed  Barry  for  allow- 
ing no  surgeon,  and  was  about  to  settle  the  bleeding, 
when  seeing  Whitefoote  salute,  looked  up,  to  find 
the  Governor  tramping  at  a  great  pace  over  a  fa- 
mous and  prized  bed  of  lilies,  his  face  ashen,  his 
tongue  tied  up  in  oaths  that  evidently  fell  like  balm 
in  Gilead  to  the  wounded  yard  or  so  of  uniform 
lying  on  the  grass. 

Barry  called  feebly  to  the  Governor  who  bent 
down,  picked  up  the  frail  body  as  he  would  have 
lifted  Georgiana  off  her  horse,  and  Whitefoote,  and 
the  purple-faced  duelHst  Cloete  watched  His  Ex- 
cellency disappear  along  the  maze  of  myrtle  hedges 
carrying  His  Majesty's  Surgeon  in  his  arms. 

"  Why,"  stammered  Mr.  Whitefoote. 

"  That  is  monstrously  near  my  own  thought," 
replied  Josias  Cloete. 

The  Governor  carried  the  little  Surgeon  gently 
and  carefully  the  long  length  of  the  palm-screened 
Gardens  that  to  this  present  day  run  parallel  to  the 
glorious  oak  avenue,  separating  the  gardens  from 
Government  House.  All  three  had  been  designed 
as  a  whole  by  the  Dutch  East  India  Company  in 
the  early  days,  the  Government  House  being  the 
House  of  Rest  or  Entertainment  for  the  Company's 


CAPE  CURREY  95 

guests  on  their  way  to  and  from  the  East:  for  in 
those  days  the  Governor  still  lived  at  the  old  Fort, 
or  In  the  newer  Castle  lying  in  the  sands  between 
the  Parade  Grounds  and  the  sea.  So  there  was  little 
or  no  chance  of  others  than  Josias  and  Whitefoote 
seeing  the  Governor  carrying  with  such  evident  ten- 
derness his  small  Surgeon,  for  they  had  but  to  cross 
the  Avenue  and  walk  Into  the  private  gardens  of 
Government  House.  But  the  long  low  house  with 
Its  many  long  windows  and  balconies  faced  the  gar- 
dens, and  Georgiana  saw  them  as  they  crossed  the 
little  red  bridge  over  the  wide  deep  sluit  or  ditch 
hedged  by  blue  plumbago  flower.  As  they  passed 
the  sentry  at  the  high  iron  gates,  she  realized  some- 
thing unforeseen  had  happened.  Her  father's 
warning  words,  Barry's  coldness,  all  forgotten,  she 
dashed  down  the  wide  stairs  through  the  ball-room 
on  to  the  verandah  where  she  met  them,  Barry 
bleeding  and  insensible,  Lord  Charles  grim-faced. 

*'  Georgie,  do  not  make  a  fuss.  He's  hurt,  but 
not  badly."  He  placed  Barry  gently  down  on  a 
low  seat  made  of  teakwood  and  thongs  of  soft  hide. 

^'  Stay  here  while  I  get  water  and  seek  his  ser- 
vant." 

She  knelt  beside  him  watching  the  blood  gently 
welling  and  oozing  from  the  tiny  hole  in  the  tightly 
buttoned  uniform.  It  was  a  ridiculous  habit  —  he 
had  done  it  before  —  this  fighting  In  his  tight  uni- 


96  CAPE  CURREY 

form.  One  of  his  oddnesses,  and  so  accepted. 
Suddenly  Barry  coughed,  and  thinking  him  choking, 
all  trembling,  she  opened  the  high  collar.  Charles 
Henry  would  come  soon,  for  by  her  life  she  vowed 
he  looked  like  death.  The  choking  noise  continued 
and  Barry's  hands  tore  at  the  tiny  hole  where  the 
blood  came  from. 

She  felt  the  pressure  was  hurting  him  and  undid 
the  tight  jacket.  A  coarse  linen  towel  appeared 
to  be  wrapped  tightly  round  the  body. 

"  How  odd !  "  and  then  she  thought,  "  why,  how 
monstrous  tight  and  unpleasant,"  and  then  — "  he 
will  suffocate,  surely."  Still  the  Governor  delayed: 
seconds  seemed  minutes.  She  tore  open  the  linen 
wrapping,  but  another  fold  appeared;  then  she  went 
very  white,  her  eyes  rivetted,  her  brain  and  intelli- 
gence paralyzed.  God  knows  what  definite  thought 
framed  itself.  Perhaps  only  suspicion,  perhaps  a 
tremendous  shock  and  realization.  All  that  she 
knew  had  been  whispered  or  said  of  her  father,  in 
ghastly  waves  of  heat  and  horror  surged  through 
her.  Some  mystery,  unfathomable,  something  un- 
usual, horrible.  This  creature,  known  so  well  to 
her,  loved,  and  so  tolerated  in  spite  of  snubs  and 
biting  witticisms,  was  not  for  her  or  for  any  woman. 

This  amazing  edge  of  mystery  complicated  every- 
thing. 


CAPE  CURREY  97 

Her  father,  all  that  he  had  said  or  suggested,  all 
that  she  had  noticed  or  taken  for  granted,  his  con- 
cern, his  affection!  God!  God!  What  could  It 
mean!  It  was  just  perhaps  her  own  awful  imagina- 
tion playing  her  tricks,  sending  her  down  into  Hell 
to  cope  with  her  own  suspicions.  And  even  then, 
poor  thing,  she  was  some  way  from  the  truth.  "  It 
must  be  Charles  Henry's  mystery.  His  particular 
sottise  —  or  am  I  mad  and  a  bad  daughter  as  well, 
for  such  Imaginings!"  The  blood  had  made  the 
linen  wrappings  quite  red  by  now.  So  red  that  one 
could  hardly  tell  It  was  not  Barry's  uniform.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  She  could  not  remember  why 
she  was  crying.  It  was  because  of  some  horrid 
thing  she  had  thought.  Just  a  thought  that  had 
flown  through  her  mind :  it  was  because  she  had 
looked  for  so  long  on  the  red,  on  the  white  turn- 
ing red,  until  even  her  own  mind  grew  red;  and  any- 
how it  might  even  have  been  a  dream,  because  when 
she  could  see  again,  and  there  were  no  more  tears, 
she  was  still  seeing  something  red;  she  touched  it. 
It  was  soft  and  silky.  .  .  . 

*'  Dearest:  my  poor  sweet,"  cooed  Aletta.  Then 
she,  Georgie,  laughed.  She  giggled,  very  feebly, 
like  a  woman  who  has  been  ill  for  a  long  time. 

"Was  it  never  blood?"  she  said.  "I  thought 
there  was  blood  all  over  your  red  dress,  Aletta,  and 


98  CAPE  CURREY 

that  you  were  kneeling  beside  some  one  who  was 
bleeding." 

She  giggled  again,  and  stopped  as  suddenly,  for 
she  did  not  remember  having  dreamed  this.  Her 
dream  had  had  nothing  to  do  with  Aletta.  So  why 
was  she  telling  Aletta  this  lie.  But  her  mouth  went 
on  lying. 

"  And  you  held  the  bleeding  body  in  your  arms 
until  some  one  showed  you  the  bare  skin,  and  that 
was  horrible.  Do  you  know,  my  love,  I  vow  I 
don't  know  what  I'm  talking  about.  Am  I  ill,  or 
mad?" 

Aletta  held  her  hand.  "  You  have  been  ill  for 
some  days,  Georgie.  You  fainted  because  His  Ex- 
cellency left  you  to  look  after  Dr.  James  when  he 
was  slightly  wounded  by  Captain  Cloete.  His  Ex- 
cellency found  you  lying,  pale  and  stiff,  beside  the 
rimpje  seat  on  the  verandah.  Captain  Cloete  car- 
ried you  up  here  and  they  sent  a  messenger  up  to 
Orangezicht  to  fetch  me." 

So  she  had  fainted  and  dreamed  many  horrors! 
It  really  did  not  matter  now  that  she  knew  she  had 
fainted.  What  a  big  relief  it  was!  And  yet  she 
believed  she  knew  she  was  telling  Aletta  a  lie  about 
her  share  in  that  extraordinary  dream. 

As  consciousness  and  strength  returned,  which 
they  did  with  amazing  rapidity,  the  dream  and  her 
sensations  became  more  muddled  and  misty.     With 


CAPE  CURREY  99 

relief  she  would  realize  that  It  grew  more  and  more 
impossible  to  piece  the  puzzle  together.  Little  bits 
of  sub-conscious  horror  remained;  but  only  as  blots, 
unreadable,  on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper. 

Her  father  referred  to  the  episode  jestingly, 
"trying  to  play  the  surgeon  herself:  thought  to 
stanch  the  scratch,  and  lost  herself  In  the  proceeding, 
poor  daughter!  "  But  his  chuckle  carried  suspicion 
or  a  fear,  with  its  half-heartedness. 

Then,  when  she  was  again  carried  out  on  the  sunlit 
balcony  by  Josias,  Barry  limped  into  the  conversa- 
tion, and  bowed  over  her  toes  his  grateful  thanks 
for  her  exquisite  sympathy,  and  added  his  suggestion 
which  spoilt  all  his  gratitude,  that  she  should  refrain 
from  being  in  at  the  Death  in  future. 

She  experienced  an  odd  feeling  of  almost  anti- 
pathy for  a  moment.  Only  a  moment.  For  again 
she  was  all  laughter  and  prettiness;  and  a  well-bred 
sensation  of  meanness  overcame  what  she  grew  day 
by  day  to  feel  was  but  a  bad  dream. 


CHAPTER  IX 

How  One  May  Find  Heaven  in  a  Vineyard,  and  of 
How  Things  Are  Not  Only  All  They  Seem 

The  Crawford  children  had  strayed  into  the  big 
Van  Breda  vineyard.  They  had  gone,  accompany- 
ing their  mother  and  Michael  Van  Breda,  to  the 
new  cellars,  to  watch  the  slaves  wine-pressing.  The 
first  signs  of  their  destiny  were  betrayed,  for  they 
each  separately  took  silent  oath  that  no  drop  of  this 
foul-smelling  liquid  should  ever  pass  their  lips:  only 
one  exception !  —  at  Marie's  wedding,  and  then  that 
would  be  for  Aletta's  sake,  and  they  would  do  much 
for  Aletta.  Jane  had  been  held  by  the  hand  of 
Michael  and  had  stoically  stood  in  the  forefront, 
to  witness  the  odd  process. 

The  huge  Madagascar  wine-treaders  with  great 
beads  of  sweat  rolling  down  their  cheeks  and  their 
short  white  tunics  of  classical  shortness,  sleeveless, 
neckless  and  very  less,  terrified  the  prospective  nuns: 
such  human  force !  such  suggestion  of  huge  black 
ogres  in  Alibaba  wine-  vats  !  — "  Baam  Zonda,  Baam 
Zonda,  Zonda  Bantu,  Bogai  Nagatu,"  sang  the  black 
Treaders,  the  slow  heavy  words  marking  time  to 
each  tread. 

"  Oh,  la  !  la !  "  whispered  Louisa,  "  the  robbers !  "  ; 

100 


CAPE  CURREY  161 

all  their  black  heads  popping  up  and  down  to  the 
rhythm  of  their  song.  Then  they  sang,  impromptu, 
of  each  nun,  descriptively  and  kindly,  but  the  nuns 
not  speaking  the  queer  slave  talk, —  which  strangely 
enough  many  years  later  was  to  become  the  recog- 
nized language  of  a  nation  —  shivered  with  fear, 
as  each  slow  word  rolled  out  of  the  ogres'  mouths. 
Plush  —  plosh  —  plush  —  plosh,  was  the  song  of 
the  trodden  grape:  then  bubble,  bubble,  drip,  drip, 
through  the  little  pipe  at  the  bottom  of  the  vat: 
then  —  s-s-sllsh  down  an  Incline  Into  the  lower  vat, 
to  stand  for  days  fermenting. 

"  MIssIe  Baba  com'  see  ";  an  enormous  giant  bent 
down  out  of  the  tub  of  Alibaba  and  gathered  the 
miserable  Jane  In  his  long  bronze  arms.  She  found 
herself  perched  on  shoulders  high  above  seven  other 
bronze  ogres,  with  big  singing  mouths  and  multi- 
tudes — "  millions  and  millions,"  said  Jane,  of  enor- 
mous white  teeth,  glistening  like  tombstones  on  a 
starlit  night;  eyes,  like  black  stars,  glowed  around 
her:  all  about  her  seemed  to  shine,  yet  all  seemed 
dark:  black  vats,  black  men,  dark,  dark  wine,  re- 
peated down  the  long  length  of  the  dark  cellar.  At 
the  end  of  all  this  enormous  blackness,  all  this 
noise  and  smell  and  heat,  a  round  of  light,  a  window 
high  In  the  wall,  showed  her  the  brilliant  sunlit 
vineyard,  the  bright  red  earth,  the  blue,  blue  cloud- 
less sky. 


;o2  CAPE  CURREY 

The  big  giant  swung  her  dexterously  over  the 
vat  to  the  floor  of  the  cellar  —  where  Louise  and 
Arabella  fell  on  her  as  one  returned  miraculously 
from  the  dead;  they  straightened  her  little  red  bon- 
net, smoothed  her  hair,  betrayed  endless  anxieties. 
"  Let  us  go  and  eat  whole  ones,  hundreds  of  grapes," 
she  whispered.  While  Michael  was  deep  in  explana- 
tions to  Mrs.  Crawford,  they  crept  towards  the 
light  of  the  vineyards. 

Michael  took  time  to  tell  how  such  wine,  being 
as  good  as  original  Constantia,  was  now  sold  by 
the  farmers  by  the  lager  — "  dat  is  to  say,  one  hon- 
dred  an'  fifty  gallons  for  two  hondred  rix-dollars." 

"  Dear  Mijnheer,  it  is  no  good  telling  me  that. 
I  can  never  find  myself  possessed  of  sufficient  fingers 
to  be  able  to  turn  rlx-dollars  Into  pounds." 

*'  Your  pardon.  Ma'am.  Two  hundred  maak 
fifteen  pound  of  your  money;  but  den  it  is  sold  again 
In  London  for  forty  pound  for  only  one  hondred 
and  ten  gallons !  But  die  big  farmers  be  dere  own 
agents.  De  boder  is  dat  all  farmers  vant  to  grow 
vine;  dey  laugh  at  me  ven  I  start  to  grow  Merino 
sheep  by  my  Caledon  varms,  dey  laugh  moch  more 
ven  I  start  to  grow  korfee  In  die  gardens  here;  an' 
even  ven  dey  see  It  pay  me,  vat  dey  do  ?  dey  do  plant 
more  vine  sticks !  MI !  mie !  It  Is  very  heavy  to  be 
a  person  —  Jaa !  "  ^ 

^  Literal  translation  of  a  Cape  Dutch  proverb. 


CAPE  CURREY  103 

"  Oh,  Mljnheer,  it  is  far  more  trying  and  far  more 
unprofitable  to  possess  daughters." 

Mrs.  Crawford,  with  the  familiarity  which  blinds 
mothers  to  the  possibility  of  their  well  brought-up 
children  wandering  too  far  from  their  side,  did  not 
even  glance  round  to  notice  the  disappearance  of  the 
three  nuns.  Not  until  she  and  her  cicerone  reached 
the  house  again,  did  she  turn  with  words  of  com- 
mand for  the  further  guidance  of  Jane,  Louisa  and 
Arabella  I 

They  were  not  there !  All  fussed  and  flurried 
she  pounced  upon  Aletta :  would  the  dear  find  the 
children;  probably  in  the  vineyards,  and  heaven 
alone  knew  what  amount  of  grapes  they  must  have 
eaten  I 

Aletta  found  the  three  vagrant  Eves  in  various 
stages  of  demoralization;  undisturbed  even  by  their 
own  well-trained  British  Consciences,  they  had  rav- 
aged like  hungry  spies  through  three  large  vineyards. 
Aletta  tracked  Jane,  lying  flat  on  her  stomach,  by  a 
strange  little  red  flannel  binder  hanging  on  a  vine 
bush, —  a  binder  such  as  infants  wear.  The  Craw- 
ford girls  always  wore  flannel  next  the  skin, — "  in 
anticipation  of  the  hair  shirt,"  as  Dr.  Barry  re- 
marked when  he  sounded  their  flat  chests  with  the 
regularity  of  once  a  month,  in  category  with  the  only 
dentist  in  all  Cape  Town  who  looked  to  their  teeth, 
the  only  barber  who  cut  their  thin  locks,  and  the 


I04  CAPE  CURREY 

indigent  lady  who  let  out  the  monthly  tuck  from  the 
economically  devised  garments,  designed  by  Mrs. 
Crawford's  mathematical  mind  for  her  rapidly 
growing  young  women. 

From  a  further  vine  bush  hung  a  pair  of  boneless 
holland  corsets;  and  then  came  Jane,  green  in  the 
face,  almost  naked,  groaning  the  fact  that  clothes 
made  no  allowance  for  a  sore  stomach.  A  few 
yards  away,  Arabella  and  Louisa  sat  helplessly  in 
a  nest  of  half  unhooked,  unlaced,  untied  garments. 

Taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  a  picture,  of  the  most 
perfect  protest  ever  exhibited  by  well-trained  well- 
born English  insides.  Had  the  Crawfords  been  rea- 
sonable little  animals  or  Httle  bourgeoises  —  well,  it 
would  have  been  less  of  a  draw,  this  fight  with  over- 
taxed nature !  Aletta  collapsed,  and  added  the  ne- 
cessary last  touch  to  their  misery  with  shouts  of 
sympathetic  laughter. 

Jane,  with  the  awful  calm  of  abated  tempest, 
spoke. 

"  We  are  extremely  uncomfortable,  Aletta,  and 
I  fear  we  dare  not  move." 

"  Uncomfortable !  Indeed  you  should  be,  you 
little  pigs !  —  come,  get  up  off  the  ground."  Which 
order  the  Misses  Crawford  obeyed  from  sheer  habit, 
and  all  three  immediately  complied  unwillingly  to 
the  exigencies  of  nature,  holding  their  little  red  bon- 
nets before  the  "  gross  sight," —  so  Jane  called  it 


CAPE  CURREY  105 

apologetically  when  all  was  over.  Aletta  began 
collecting  the  little  garments  from  various  parts  of 
the  vineyard.  She  took  the  girls  into  the  shade 
of  a  big  walnut  tree.  Probably  it  was  the  sugges- 
tion by  Louisa  of  how  she  had  attempted  to  cover 
the  nakedness  of  Jane  before  succumbing  herself, 
and  that  it  being  only  Jane  to  be  covered  added  but 
little  to  the  interest  of  the  episode,  that  from  Bible 
fables  they  drifted  to  the  stories  of  Pan  and  his 
woods,  and  the  queer  myths  of  Nature :  the  exact 
note  sung  and  gurgled  by  the  little  scuttling  stream 
that  started  life  on  the  top  of  the  mountain  and 
rushed  headlong  down  to  the  sea;  of  the  way  the 
smallest  ambition  realized  only  ended  in  being  lost 
in  a  huge  whole  —  whether  it  be  sea  or  not :  and  the 
Misses  Crawford  forgot  the  forbidden  vineyard  and 
their  painful  penance,  and  begged  for  a  story,  and 
a  story  of  real  things,  such  as  Aletta  told  — "  not 
of  People  and  Houses  and  Backboards  and  Pun- 
ishment and  Reward."  Therefore  Aletta  lay  on 
the  ground  with  her  face  supported  by  her  elbows, 
looked  across  the  green  Isthmus  below,  and  told  the 
wonderful  story  of  how  the  Table  Mountain  became 
flat,  because  once,  many  years  ago.  Table  Moun- 
tain was  all  in  bumps  and  battlements  like  the  Hot- 
tentot and  Stellenbosch  Mountains:  and  as  this  was 
the  beginning  of  the  story,  the  Misses  Crawford  all 
nodded  and  said:  "  and  so?  " 


io6  CAPE  CURREY 

"  And  so,"  said  Aletta,  *'  the  Veld  Kings  were  at 
war  with  the  Veld  fairies  who  live  in  the  river  beds 
and  near  the  big  blue  vleis  — " 

English  Jane  could  not  allow  this  to  pass.  "  You 
should  say  lakes,  Aletta:  near  the  lakes." 

"  Oh,  Jane,  be  silent,"  pleaded  Louisa.  "  And 
so,  Aletta,  and  so  ...    ?" 

"  Well,  the  giants  were  big  kind  creatures,  but 
as  they  had  to  fight,  with  their  huge  hands  they  built 
fortresses,  the  forts  you  call  Mountains.  Look 
across  the  Flats,  at  that  long  chain  of  Mountains  — 
and  to  guard  their  land  better  they  built  a  high 
pointed  fortress  almost  in  the  sea :  look  above  you, 
children." 

"  But  Table  Mountain  is  not  pointed,"  mumbled 
Jane. 

"  The  giants  with  monstrous  big  strides  walked 
up  and  down  their  fortress  by  rough  paths  that  we 
call  Ravines.  They  fought  for  years,  these  jealous 
giants  and  fairies.  Sometimes  the  fairies  won  the 
battles,  and  they  would  cut  off  the  giants'  toes  and 
fingers  and  stick  them  on  the  tall  reeds  that  grow 
round  the  vleis,  which  we  now  call  buUrushes;  then 
the  giants  became  afraid  and  started  to  bury  all 
their  treasure  of  gold  and  copper  and  tin  In  the 
mountains. 

"  Then  at  other  times  the  giants  won,  and  took 
many  fairies  prisoners;  but  the  fairies  bribed  the 


CAPE  CURREY  107 

Veld  spiders  to  help  them.  The  spiders  spun  fine 
webs,  miles  and  miles  of  web,  to  catch  the  dew- 
drops,  and  as  it  was  winter  the  dew-drops  froze  and 
became  sparkling  stones  which  the  fairies  collected, 
and  gave  to  the  giants  for  the  ransom  of  the  cap- 
tives. When  a  giant  was  killed,  he  was  burled  just 
where  he  fell,  a  big  mound  was  erected  over  him,  and 
you  see,  that  Is  why  all  over  the  Veld  there  are 
little  and  big  Kopjes.  Then  the  fairies  thought 
they  would  make  a  very  big  fairy  to  look  as  much 
as  possible  like  a  giant,  to  help  them  against  their 
big  enemies.  So  one  night,  when  It  was  very  dark 
and  only  two  stars  in  the  heavens,  they  collected 
some  clay  from  the  river  bed,  and  old  pieces  of 
bone  from  the  skeletons  of  baboons  and  other  ani- 
mals, and  made  a  giant  creature,  to  be  their  friend! 
They  made  him  a  head  like  the  top  of  a  Kopje,  and 
the  hair  was  made  of  the  tight  little  clumps  of  bush 
which  grows  on  the  Veld,  and  they  made  him  fingers 
and  toes  of  the  round  fleshy  spikes  of  the  juicy  mllk- 
bosch. 

"  But  because  they  worked  by  night,  the  creature 
they  made  was  quite  black. 

"  At  first  the  creature  waged  war  with  them,  but 
one  year,  when  it  was  too  hot  for  w^ar,  the  black  giant 
fairy  fell  in  love  and  married  a  daughter  of  the 
giants.  Then  there  came  upon  the  earth  a  race 
smaller  than  giants,  bigger  than  fairies,  and  this 


io8  CAPE  CURREY 

race  of  black  men  fought  the  fairies  till  there  was 
not  one  left;  then  they  fought  the  giants  and  drove 
them  down  towards  the  sea.  Only  two  escaped  to 
the  stronghold  called  the  Castle  of  the  Devil." 

("  Oh,  la,  Aletta,"  said  shocked  Louisa,  "  shock- 
ing word! ") 

"  The  two  last  giants  took  refuge  In  their  fortress, 
and  watched  with  tired  eyes  the  hordes  and  hordes 
of  black  men  coming  towards  the  mountain.  The 
giants  took  the  great  rocks  and  hurled  them  down 
the  steep  slopes,  and  down  the  pathways  called  ra- 
vines. But  still  more  and  more  black  men  followed 
those  who  fell;  the  giants  hurled  more  rocks,  until 
at  last,  the  whole  top  of  the  fortress  was  gone  and 
they  had  no  more  protection  and  no  more  big  rocks, 
and  the  Mountain  has  been  flat  ever  since.  Then, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  two  wounded  tired 
giants  left  the  mountain:  as  they  reached  the  flat 
country  on  the  other  side,"  (Aletta  pointed  towards 
Constantia  and  the  Wine  country)  "  one  giant  fell, 
with  a  monstrous  arrow  through  his  heart.  The 
other  giant  buried  him  under  the  hill  we  call  the 
Bosheuvel,  and  placed  seven  big  rocks  on  the  summit 
to  show  that  the  giant  was  a  chieftain.  Then  all 
through  the  dark  hot  night  the  wounded  giant 
tramped  across  the  Isthmus,  staining  the  flowers  and 
grass  with  his  blood;  the  sandy  earth  sank  under 
the  weight  of  his  heavy  feet,  his  footprints  became 


CAPE  CURREY  109 

the    beds    of    the    Vleis    where    we    gather    blue 
lotus.  .  .  ." 

Then,  like  a  triumphant  NIobe,  Mrs.  Crawford 
swept  down  into  the  vineyard,  followed  by  Dirk 
Zorn. 

"Leave  us,  Mama!"  screamed  the  three  prom- 
ising nuns,  "  we  are  In  heaven!  " 

"  In  heaven!  Aletta,  my  dear,  your  games  are 
slightly  over  realistic,"  gasped  Mrs.  Crawford, 
gathering  armfuls  of  little  garments,  and  proceed- 
ing to  wrap  an  angel  with  yards  of  red  flannel. 

*' Ah,  Mama,  be  careful!  —  my  waist!"  And 
then  Aletta  explained,  and  Mrs.  Crawford  threatened 
bed  and  backboard,  and  altogether,  pretty  soon, 
every  one  found  that  It  was  earth,  and  not  heaven. 

"  Most  trying,  most  trying,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Crawford  to  Dirk,  "  most  trying  to  be  continually 
playing  the  Mother." 

Then  aloud  to  Aletta.  "  My  dear,  you  are 
missed  at  the  Homestead  I  fear.  Such  bustle  and 
work  for  this  wedding.  Look  at  Jane !  She  has 
the  appearance  of  a  very  young  green  pea  at  pres- 
ent: what  a  shade!  How,  Indeed,  am  I  to  turn 
her  Into  a  Bridesmaid,  all  in  one  night!  " 

The  party  separated  at  the  vineyard  gates.  The 
Crawford  girls  went  happily  to  bed  on  bread  and 
milk.  Aletta  and  Dirk  walked  up  the  oak  avenue 
to  the  Homestead. 


CHAPTER  X 

Of  How  Even  a  Fat  Man  Can  Become  Romantic,  and 

OF  How  the  Governor  Pays  a  Call  on  the 

Van  Bredas 

The  Household  of  Orangezicht  was  assembled 
in  the  regions  of  the  kitchen.  Preparations  for  the 
wedding  turned  every  day's  housekeeping  into  an 
orgie  of  foods. 

Decapitated  poultry  lay  in  heaps  on  the  kitchen 
floor;  Apollo,  a  hideous  bandy-legged  Mozambique, 
came  in  through  the  vine-treUised  doorway,  his 
broad  shining  shoulders  loaded  with  firewood; 
Cupido,  a  half-bred  Hottentot,  staggered  under 
huge  round  baskets  of  orange  pumpkins  and  bright 
green  water-melons. 

Eva,  the  chief  cook,  sat  in  the  chimney  corner, 
surrounded  by  a  high  wall  of  chickens  which  she 
picked  to  the  tune  of  an  appropriate  Hottentot  dirge, 
so  minoresque  and  mournful  that  one  would  have 
imagined  she  assisted  at  the  last  rites  of  her  own 
family. 

A  pretty  light-brown  Malay  girl,  Annasina,  was 
pricking  piles  of  green  figs  and  water-melon  peel 
(prior  to  placing  them  to  soak  in  Hme)  for  preserve. 

no 


CAPE  CURREY  1 1 1 

Through  the  carved  oak  screen  was  the  big  dark 
"  Voorhuis  "  chamber,  where  the  Van  Breda  neigh- 
bors were  peehng  almonds,  cleaning  raisins,  and 
working  and  chattering  as  though  to  create  the 
requisite  appetite  for  the  day  of  the  feast. 

Like  a  clucking  hen,  decked  In  black  taffetas, 
Mljnfrau  Van  Breda  rustled  round  the  high  room 
and  in  and  out  of  the  kitchen,  scolding,  petting  and 
manoEuverIng  her  slaves  and  her  friends,  until  the 
plump  chatelaine  of  Leeuwenhof  called  for  coffee 
and  a  little  gossip. 

Orangezlcht  homestead  basked  In  Its  own  vine- 
yards. Designed  some  hundred  and  more  years  ago 
by  a  clever  Huguenot  designer,  the  greater  sculptor 
Anton  Anrelth,  on  his  way  to  study  the  East,  had 
remained  a  fascinated  captive  at  the  Cape,  repaying 
the  luxurious  hospitality  of  his  hosts  by  molding 
subtle  decorations  of  fruit,  flowers  or  classical  fig- 
ures on  the  gables  of  their  homestead,  over  the 
small-paned  Dutch  windows,  or  as  wall  decorations 
in  their  gardens. 

Anton  had  lived  at  Orangezlcht  and  left  wonder- 
ful legacies.  A  terra-cotta  railing  with  pillars  en- 
twined with  garlands  curtained  the  slave  yard  and 
out-buildings  from  the  back  windows  of  the  Voor- 
huis —  a  great  dining  hall  running  straight  through 
the  house  —  divided  into  Hall  and  eating-place  by 
the  carved  wooden  screen  of  teak.     The  wide  veran- 


112  CAPE  CURREY 

dah  or  stoep  reflected  on  its  wide  red  tiles  the  light 
and  shade  given  by  the  roof  of  Indian  oaks  which 
grew  close  to  the  house;  an  avenue  of  tangerine 
trees  laden  with  golden  fruit  led  up  to  the  curved 
brick  steps  of  the  teak  front  door.  Anrelth's  gar- 
lands and  a  figure  of  Time  decorated  the  doorway 
gable;  the  heavy  reed  thatching,  coming  low  on 
either  side  of  the  gable,  framed  the  beautiful  design. 
The  square  teak  shutters  were  bolted  and  hinged  in 
worked  silver,  the  small-paned  windows  eternally 
closed  to  keep  out  the  heated  air.  Inside,  the  at- 
mosphere was  icy.  No  carpets  spoilt  the  red  tiled 
floors.  Rimpje  benches,  carved  and  seated  with 
thongs  of  hide,  stood  against  the  white  walls;  in  one 
corner  a  wonderfully  good  i8th  Century  bureau 
made  by  the  Orangezicht  slaves,  under  supervision; 
two  or  three  copper  bowls  gleamed  from  wooden 
tables  and  low  wood  and  leather  coffers.  A  dis- 
carded sedan  chair  stood  in  another  corner. 
Through  the  screen  the  long  dining  table  glowed, 
and  some  old  oil  paintings  of  ancestors  stared  from 
the  walls.  Three  Delft  dishes  holding  oranges  stood 
on  a  dresser.  Not  a  flower!  hardly  any  color  but 
the  shine  of  copper  and  the  yellow  fruit.  The  bed- 
rooms opened  into  the  dining  hall,  all  heavy  wooden 
beds  and  scrupulous  sheets  and  pillows;  fine  silver 
bolts  and  chaste  latches,  and  ivory  inlays  in  the  mir- 
rors and  round  the  edges  of  tall-boys,  were  the  only 


CAPE  CURREY  113 

decoration.  Some  of  the  gigantic  gabled  wardrobes 
were  carved  and  Inlaid  with  ebony;  and  slender 
yellow-wood  chairs  with  ball  and  claw  feet  and 
carved  rounded  backs  were  suggestive  of  Europe 
and  of  the  East.  Much  of  the  furniture  had  been 
carved  by  Javanese  and  Indian  prisoners;  but  none 
of  the  brilliant  shining  lacquer  found  a  home  amid 
this  serene  cleanliness  of  polished  wood,  whitewash, 
and  red  tile  —  an  everlasting  memorial  of  the  peo- 
ple who  Inspired  it;  an  undemonstrative  deep-think- 
ing, deep-feeling  people,  arrogant  In  untempted 
virtue;  polished  only  with  homely  manner. 

Aletta,  In  purple  muslin,  was  busy  turning  the 
house  Into  a  garden,  an  English  fashion  that  her 
aunt  Petronella  found  hard  to  bear.  Aletta  brought 
In  long  branches  of  blue  plumbago  and  heads  of 
agapanthus  and  went  rapturous  over  the  combina- 
tion of  her  flowers  and  the  Delft  china  hung  on 
the  white  walls  and  in  rows  on  the  cabinet  shelves, 
Dirk  Zorn  encouraging  and  making  verses  for  the 
occasion;  and  Dirk  had  other  things  in  his  mind 
than  verses.  Mljnfrau  Van  Breda  suffered  the 
flower  decorations;  but  when  it  came  to  such  a  pass 
that  the  slaves  commenced  bringing  in  pomegranate 
bushes  and  trails  of  vine  with  great  purple  bunches 
still  hanging  from  the  stems,  she  would  have  bun- 
dled the  whole  business  out  of  the  house  —  but  for 
Dirk  Zorn.     Dirk   approved,    and   Mljnfrau   Van 


114  CAPE  CURREY 

Breda  had  begun  to  regard  the  Leeuwenhof  vine- 
yards as  an  extension  of  the  Van  Breda  vineyards: 
when  the  proper  time  should  arrive,  she,  herself, 
would  give  Aletta  (the  slow  girl)  a  good  push  In 
that  direction,  though,  "  fool  Toch!  she  was  not  a 
girl  to  push  one  way  or  the  other !'  " 

Dirk  and  Aletta,  gathering  pink  belladonna  lilies 
and  tuberoses,  were  nearer  to  one  another  than 
often  arrived  in  Aletta's  scheme  of  life,  and  the 
purple  of  Aletta's  gown  showed  her  round  throat 
startllngly  smooth  and  soft.  You  would  notice  Al- 
etta's throat  before  you  took  Interest  in  her  face. 

Dirk's  eyes  never  left  Aletta's  throat:  it  hypno- 
tized his  gaze  to  the  point  of  obsession.  Not  sur- 
prising that  suddenly,  Dirk,  having  gone  pale  as  a 
ghost  at  the  peril  of  the  moment,  lost  hold  enough 
to  grasp  that  staring  white  throat  in  his  big  hands 
with  the  amount  of  strength  that  he  would  use  to 
grasp  a  slender  smooth  stem  of  a  young  birch  tre.e, 
—  and  then  because  Aletta's  throat  was  of  flesh  and 
not  of  wood,  the  divine  sense  of  strength  gave  place 
to  some  sensual  joy  as  his  fingers  sank  into  Aletta's 
white  throat;  and  as  his  mouth  met  her  mouth,  un- 
resisting enough,  there  was  nothing  left  in  his  mind 
but  the  overpowering  knowledge  of  sex  —  and  a 
distant  wonderful  knowledge  that  Aletta  held  her- 
self still  and  unresisting  against  him. 

Thus  a  minute  passed:  the  world  seemed  hung  by 


CAPE  CURREY  115 

slender  vibrating  chains,  the  atmosphere  seemed 
emptied  of  all  but  the  throbbing  pulse  of  life,  sollder 
things  faded  In  such  blinding  light  that  It  had  well 
been  darkness. 

Then  galvanized  tense  bodies  relaxed  —  and 
there  was  an  end  of  the  kiss.  So  two  people  can 
usurp  the  world. 

Aletta  leant  against  the  trunk  of  a  pine  tree: 
Dirk,  panting,  saw  nothing  yet,  but  heard  her  slow 
heavy  voice : 

"  That  was  very  wonderful.  I  like  to  be  kissed 
like  that;  but  you  are  not  the  man  I  wish  to  do  it. 
Your  hands  are  too  fat,  and  I  do  not  like  you.  I 
must  be  kissed  by  a  man  who  pleases  me  more." 

That  she  could  passively  and  dispassionately 
analyze  such  a  moment !  —  the  Insult  about  his  hands 
might  be  passed  over,  but  the  insult  to  the  mo- 
ment— !  No!  No!  Dirk  Zorn  threw  himself 
on  to  the  earth,  his  face  hidden  in  his  fat  hands. 

And  so  Aletta,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  saw 
a  human  being  stripped  of  veneer,  saw  the  bare  ach- 
ing soul  of  Dirk  Zorn,  saw  the  tortured,  writhing, 
heavy  body  —  she  saw  all.  The  nostrils  of  her 
delicate  nose  quivered,  her  senses  played  truant; 
her  mind  dragged  her  back  to  the  original  stand- 
point, and  her  eyes  looked  with  disgust  on  the  fat 
twisted  hands.  .  .  .  She  smoothed  her  hair  In  the 
reflection  of  the  little  mountain  stream  that  edged 


ii6  CAPE  CURREY 

a  pathway  of  hydrangeas,  smoothed  the  crumpled 
folds  of  her  purple  gown,  walked  across  to  the  hot 
orchard,  picked  a  peach  and  came  back  to  Dirk,  all 
sullen  now,  gazing  down  the  avenue  that  led  to  the 
town,  down  the  avenue,  on  to  the  sea. 

Then  he  spoke :  she  must  love  him,  she  had  been 
happy  to  be  kissed  by  him:  he.  Dirk,  had  kissed 
many  women  and  knew  the  difference  between  a 
woman  who  desired  It  and  a  woman  who  did  not. 
And  so  on. 

Aletta,  nibbling  the  peach,  answered  that  indeed 
she  had  desired  It,  desired  it  always,  (here  stopped 
to  have  to  push  away  Dirk's  hands  as  In  the  old 
days)  but  that  he  must  understand  there  Is  a  mighty 
difference  In  the  matter  of  the  giving  —  but  yet, 
better  than  not  have  It  at  all.   .   .   . 

Aletta  threw  away  the  hard  kernel  of  the  peach. 

*'  No  use,  a  hard-pit,"  ^  she  said. 

The  fat  poet  smiled. 

"  How  like  you,  Aletta.  You  cat  it  and  then 
find  fault  with  It.  You  let  me  kiss  you  and 
then.  .  .  ." 

^'  Find  fault  with  you.  I  cannot  help  It,  Dirk, 
by  my  honor,  I  cannot.  I  let  you  kiss  me,  but  T 
closed  my  eyes  and  —  and  —  I  Imagined  it  was  some 
one  else.     Ja !     Ja !     I  know,  they  wish  the  vine- 

1  Cling-stone  peach. 


CAPE  CURREY  117 

yards  to  join.  Tante  Petronelle  only  waits  to  eat 
Zorn  grapes  that  are  also  Breda  grapes  —  to  hold 
babies  that  are  yours  and  mine  —  fool !  How 
shamelessly  I  talk.  Should  I  marry  you,  Dirk,  It 
would  be  just  like  this  kiss;  I  would  always  close  my 
eyes.  I  would  always  try  and  pretend  it  was  to 
some  one  else  I  was  married.  I  love  beautiful 
things,  Dirk,  and  you  are  not  beautiful."  She 
smiled  sweetly  at  him,  and  stretched  him  a  slim 
white  hand;  as  he  did  not  take  It  but  folded  his 
arms  across  his  chest,  head  sunk,  she  passed  her 
wonderful  hand  slowly  over  his  hair;  all  the  while 
torrents  of  her  words  dazed  his  brain.  Insult  after 
insult  In  her  clear  strong  voice;  and  when  he  looked 
up  again  her  eyes  were  closed  and  she  was  still 
speaking. 

He  woke  to  the  degradation  of  it  all  and  pulled 
her  towards  him  roughly,  finding  pleasure  in  hurting 
her. 

"  I  wondered  how  long  you  would  bear  such 
things,"  she  whispered,  not  struggling  or  resisting 
his  fury.  "  I  hke  strength  —  it  is  fine."  She 
smiled.  "  Pray  remember  then  that  strength  pleases 
me,  but  I  shall  pretend  all  the  while  that  it  is  some 
other  person.      Does  the  prospect  please  you?  " 

''My  God  I  What  a  girl."  Then  he  relapsed 
again  into  prayers  and  whines.     Could  she  not  have 


ii8  CAPE  CURREY 

compassion?  He  loved  her  so!  He  grovelled  — 
implored  —  wept  — "  How  cruel  she  was  —  how 
heartless." 

She  lost  all  patience. 

"  I  will  kick  you  if  you  He  there  like  some  fat 
howling  animal.  Why  should  I  be  tormented  — 
why?  why?  why?  Why  should  I  love  you?  I  do 
not.  Listen!  Believe!  1  do  not!  I  want  beauty, 
romance,  mystery,  hundreds  of  things  you  have  not 
got.  What  are  the  Zorn  vineyards  to  me !  Now 
this  Is  finished.  I  have  said  all  I  think,  have 
thought,  or  will  ever  think  on  this  subject."  She 
was  beautiful!  He  gazed  at  her,  too  fascinated  by 
her  face  and  body  to  care  what  the  heart  and  soul 
of  her  thought  about  It  all.  To  him  she  was  the 
woman  to  be  desired,  and  to  be  got;  but  she  had 
placed  an  immaterial  barrier  between  them,  and 
unconsciously,  for  he  was  too  stunned  with  self  pity 
to  reason,  he  felt  that  for  the  moment  this  chapter 
of  his  courtship  was  over.  He  had  besieged  with 
his  three  great  weapons.  His  love  for  her,  the 
Zorn  vineyards,  and  his  own  great  strength.  She 
accepted  while  explaining  that  they  meant  nothing; 
and  the  Zorn  vineyards  she  metaphorically  flung 
back  In  his  face. 

Here  the  Interview  ended,  interrupted  by  the  Gov- 
ernor and  Georgiana,  riding  ahead  of  their  Staff, 
on  their  way  to  the  Round  House,  the  journey  hav- 


CAPE  CURREY  119 

ing  been  postponed  for  some  weeks  on  account  of 
Georglana^s  illness  and  Barry's  wound. 

Miss  Somerset  slipped  off  her  horse  on  to  Aletta's 
neck  and  gurgled  over  her  friend;  the  Governor 
thought  the  Breda  filly  was  finding  the  pasturage 
strong  diet,  glancing  from  Zorn's  now  flushed,  sulky 
face  to  Aletta's  quivering  nostrils.  The  Governor 
judged  a  woman  almost  as  well  as  he  judged  a  horse. 
Barry  came  up  on  the  old  white  pony  alone,  and 
Dirk  remembered  again  the  strange  hurrying 
through  the  woods  of  the  day  before. 

*'  Where  is  Captain  Cloete  "  asked  Aletta. 

"  He  has  ridden  on  with  the  servants  and  wag- 
ons," replied  Miss  Somerset,  "  and  her  ladyship 
and  Mr.  Keppel  are  riding  by  Green  Point  and  the 
Downs." 

No  one  mentioned  the  queer  little  burlesque  of 
a  duel  that  had  taken  place  in  the  Gardens. 

Barry's  swagger  was  more  remarkable  than  ever 
—  to  hide  possibly  the  slight  lameness  —  accentuat- 
ing it  to  the  extent  of  general  remark;  and  it  ended 
in  Barry  going  red  for  once  and  most  disagreeably 
refuting  the  voluble  attentions  of  Mijnfrau  Petro- 
nella,  who  having  heard  from  the  Governor,  en 
camera^  of  the  affair  and  the  stiffness,  produced 
"  bouchu,"  the  healing  herb  off  the  Breda  farms  in 
the  Caledon  district.  Barry  at  once  became  boast- 
ful.    *'  So  many  of  these  trifles,  ma'am — "      (One 


I20  CAPE  CURREY 

gathered  he  had  fought  with  half  the  British  Army.) 

Tante  Petronelle  presented  all  the  clacking  neigh- 
bors, herded  them  before  Lord  Charles  and  turned 
them  on  to  Barry,  who  was  in  his  element  refusing 
their  remedies  and  accepting  their  smiles,  with 
Georgiana's  blue  eyes  viewing  the  scene  with  palpa- 
ble disfavor. 

They  drank  coffee  on  the  wide  verandah  over- 
looking the  bay  and  the  narrow  Isthmus.  Lord 
Charles  was  deep  in  an  argument  with  old  Michael 
as  to  the  defensive  positions  of  the  Craig  batteries 
running  down  the  face  of  the  Devil's  Peak,  and 
how  the  English  under  Sir  David  Baird  had  marched 
knee-deep  in  sand  and  slime  from  the  Blueberg 
Mountains  across  the  Bay,  on  their  march  of  capitu- 
lation. 

"That  is  what  David  named  it;  said  he  never 
manoeuvered  a  more;  demned  dull  business;  said  he 
regarded  his  fighting  reputation  buried  in  the  mud 
of  the  Salt  River." 

"  What  he  lost  in  fighting  reputation  he  most 
assuredly  regained  in  such  progress  to  damnation 
as  to  turn  his  troops  blue  from  one  end  to  the  other 
of  their  red  battalion.  He  reached  heights,"  yapped 
Barry,  "  that  you,  my  dear  Excellency,  can  never 
achieve !  His  curses  dried  up  the  Salt  River,  and 
burnt  the  veld  for  miles  around." 

Barry  stood  silhouetted  against  the  sky,  his  thin 


CAPE  CURREY  121 

arms  waving  and  gesticulating  dramatically;  and 
Dirk  Zorn  again  had  those  disturbing  Ideas  which 
at  the  mention  of  Barry  always  thrust  themselves 
to  the  forefront  of  his  mind. 

"  When  the  English  come,"  interrupted  Mijnfrau 
Van  Breda,  "  de  tulips  from  Holland  did  die.  Dere 
have  never  come  flowers  again:  I  takes  it  as  a 
warning.  Derefore,  except  to  the  black  stuff  " — 
(so  Tante  Petronelle  and  all  her  period  thought 
of  their  slaves)  *'  I  always  speaks  de  Englls'.  Mar, 
fool  toch !  de  days  I  maak  watermelon  konfeit,  en 
van  der  Hum  brandy-vine,  I  says  my  praers  In 
Dutch,  to  bring,  mar,  ein  beltje  luck  to  de  brandy- 
vine.  For  once  I  vas  stirring  de  stuff  and  laying 
in  de  naartje  oranges,  when  I  say  to  Aletta,  '  My 
dear  Heaven!  but  dis  smell  all  right'!  when  dere 
fell  In  a  whole  naartje  orange  too  many;  and  all 
die  verdomte  stuff  was  spoil  itself.  Dat's  wot  come 
of  maaking  Van  der  Hum  In  de  Englls'  language. 
Now,  from  dat  day  I  maak  de  Van  der  Hum  in 
Hollandse." 

"  I  understand  quite  a  number  of  Cape  people 
still  say  their  prayers  In  Dutch  —  and  curse  in  Eng- 
lish," said  Barry. 

Mr.  Whitefoote,  deep  in  the  consuming  of  a  very 
liquid  sweet-melon,  went  through  a  peculiar  species 
of  spasm  which  Miss  'Somerset  called.  In  her  own 
familiar     language,     a     "conniption";     Mijnfrau 


122  CAPE  CURREY 

turned  upon  him  three  infuriated  crimson  chins  and 
two  shocked  eyes,  and  as  though  to  refute  the  at- 
tack,  exclaimed:     "  Allemachtig!  " 

Then  they  brought  out  the  great  mahogany 
v/edding  coffer,  and  spread  plllow-sllps  and  home- 
grown-goose quilts  and  such  like  over  the  verandah 
tiles,  which  started  Lord  Charles  on  a  tale  of  how 
he  had  slept  for  the  first  time  In  his  life  In  cambric 
sheets  at  Wynyard  and  disliked  the  chillsomeness, 
and  how,  though  my  lady  was  all  mug  to  him,  yet  the 
Brussels  lace  with  which  the  pillows  were  trimmed 
tickled  him  all  night  —  he  advised  the  buxom  fian- 
cee to  rip  off  the  damnable  stuff  If  she  wanted  to  have 
a  pleasant  wedding  night  —  how  he  had  given  his 
own  filly  the  hint,  though  Wyndham  ^  was  a  casual 
fellow,  and  grown  up  to  the  custom  of  lace  frills 
round  his  ears! 

Aletta  and  Miss  Somerset  looked  by  this  time  like 
excited  Lorelei  In  a  sea  of  tarlatans  and  muslins  and 
foamy  laces;  the  big  coffers  like  half  submerged  is- 
lands rose  above  the  melee.  Aletta,  from  under  a 
shining  crown  of  silver  leaves,  chattered  to  the  half 
of  the  audience  not  in  Lord  Charles'  group. 

"  The  maids  of  honor  are  to  wear  pink  tarlatan, 
my  love,  and  silver  leaf  crov/ns." 

"  Not  poor  Jane  Crawford !  Under  a  silver 
wreath,'*  giggled  Georglana. 

1  One  of  the  Governor's  daughters  had  married  a  Wyndham. 


CAPE  CURREY  123 

Barry  added  varnish  to  the  picture. 

**  I  would  we  had  to  bet  upon  which  would  shine 
the  brightest:  Miss  Jane's  complexion  or  the 
wreath." 

"  Nasty  wretch!  "  Georglana  only  allowed  her 
own  tongue  liberties  with  her  friends. 

"  Now,  my  fair  damsel  with  the  twisted  nose  — " 

Had  big  Joslas  been  present  there  would  have 
been  an  end  of  this  surgeon. 

*'  Dr.  James,"  said  Aletta,  "  Georglana  begs  to 
state  that  your  own  defies  discussion,  so  we  shall 
continue  with  weddings.  Maria  wishes  to  dispense 
with  chariots  and  tilburrles  and  any  vehicles,  and  use 
the  old  sedan  chair;  to  be  like  her  own  mother 
and  be  jostled  down  the  steep  '  Gardens  '  by  the 
slaves.  No  one  to  look  at  Cousin  Maria  would 
accuse  her  of  having  an  uncommon  notion,  would 
they?" 

As  Maria  was  plump  and  small  and  a  most  com- 
fortable looking  bride,  no  one  did  much  more  than 
mumble  contradictions. 

*'  And  your  turn,  m'dear?  "  Lord  Charles  crossed 
the  stoep  and  took  Aletta's  hand  — "  and  they  tell 
me  —  they  tell  me "  (looking  at  Dirk  Zorn) . 

''  Lies,  sir,"  said  Aletta. 

*'  And  all  the  romances ?  " 

''  Romances,  sir?  " 

"  They  tell  me  you  write  plays  for  the   Dutch 


'124  CAPE  CURREY 

Theater  and  that  Dirk  Zorn  reels  off  poetry  like  an 
adept." 

"  That  is  why  I  wish  to  make  a  real  romance  and 
call  it  '  The  Heiress.'  All  romances  end  when  the 
Lovers  meet.  Is  that  not  so,  sir?  To  be  a  rich 
heiress  is  romantic,  but  to  be  a  rich  wife  might  be  a 
monstrous  calamity." 

"  Very  right.  Miss,"  chipped  in  Barry.  *'  Ro- 
mances paint  at  full  length  people's  wooings,  and 
give  but  a  bust  of  marriages." 

The  conversation  was  going  too  far  the  wrong 
way  for  Mijnfrau  Petronelle's  liking:  even  Michael 
sought  to  interfere. 

"  Mij  lieve,  klein  doctortje,  leave  then  alone 
what  you  may  know  little  about." 

"  Ja,"  said  Petronelle — "  as  if  then  we  did  not 
have  very  much  boders  with  Aletta.  Three  times 
she  vas  failed  for  die  confirmings  by  die  Minister  of 
the  Kirk.  Die  last  time,  mij  Machtig!  die  Minister 
ask  one  last  question:  'How  old  vas  Jacob  ven 
Isaac  was  born?'  He  stand  at  die  torp  of  die 
class  —  dis  eldest  girl  von  Mijnfrau  Zorn  —  she 
could  not  say  die  answer;  die  Minister  go  all  through 
die  class  till  he  come  to  Aletta,  and  Aletta  she  an- 
swer die  most  principal  question,  so  she  pass  and  vas 
confirm.  Mar,  mij  lieve,  I  vas  very  afraid  I  vould 
git  no  confirmings  party  vor  Aletta  as  long  as  I  lif." 


CAPE  CURREY  125 

The  lady  was  wound  up  for  all  her  troubles  when 
the  dear  neighbors  hit  upon  the  lucky  moment  for 
departing. 

The  Governor,  too,  wished  to  be  high  up  the  path 
leading  through  the  vineyards  and  coffee  plantations 
to  the  gap  In  the  mountains  called  "  The  Kloof," 
and  from  there,  far  above  the  town,  to  see  the  sun 
sink  Into  the  Indian  Ocean.  Aletta  and  Dirk  Zorn 
rode  with  the  party.  As  they  passed  through  the 
woods  that  screened  the  white  homestead  with  the 
high  walls,  and  reached  the  spot  where  he  had  seen 
Barry  pushing  his  way  through  the  undergrowth  and 
shrubs.  Dirk  Zorn  riding  by  Aletta's  side,  told  her, 
as  a  man  tells  to  the  woman  he  loves,  the  story  of 
Barry  and  the  old  white  house. 

"  A  mystery,  I  fancy,  Aletta.  I  would  give  half 
Leeuwenhof  to  know  the  true  history  of  little 
Currey."  Then  he  told  her  the  story  of  the  duel; 
how  the  Governor  had  himself  carried  the  little  doc- 
tor across  the  Gardens  to  Government  House  and 
bandaged  the  scratch  and  allowed  no  one  near;  and 
he  went  on  to  tell  Aletta  how  he  knew  of  a  man  who 
suspected  many  strange  things  between  the  Gov- 
ernor and  little  Currey,  and  how  a  lampoon  had  been 
written  to  be  placarded  up  on  the  morrow,  and  how 
more  would  certainly  follow:  and  much  more  this 
foolish   young   man   confided   to   Aletta,   becoming 


126  CAPE  CURREY 

more  indiscreet  the  deeper  the  sun  sank,  red  and 
glowing,  into  the  golden  sea. 

There  would  be  very  little  history,  very  few  me- 
moirs would  ever  have  been  written,  no  love-letters 
published,  many  scandals  averted,  many  beautiful 
and  unbeautlful  things  never  remembered,  If  men  did 
not  with  few  exceptions,  shuffle  off  their  burdens  at 
the  feet  of  the  women  they  love.  Some,  like  stub- 
born pack  mules,  too  tired  to  protest,  too  weary  to 
deny,  stand  patiently  loaded,  to  wait  the  tactful  ten- 
der hands  that  shall  free  them,  or  the  keen  wit  that 
shall  guess  the  contents  of  the  burden  and  the  need 
of  rest.  Others,  with  the  giant  ungrace  of  the 
camel,  floundering  with  bended  knees,  jerk  off  their 
cargo  unheeding  of  the  worth,  value,  or  weight. 
The  sun  has  set,  the  day's  labor  is  ended:  the  trouble 
is,  that  the  journey  must  be  continued  next  day. 

So  Dirk  Zorn  told  Aletta  a  great  many  things  he 
should  have  carried  quietly,  if  shamefully,  to  the  end 
of  the  journey. 

The  moon  rose  through  the  fir  woods,  in  exqui- 
site imitation  of  the  departed  sun  —  a  wraith  sun. 

Aletta  and  Dirk  were  silent,  he  gazing  at  her  face 
paled  by  the  sudden  moonlight,  she,  all  wondering 
and  troubled  and  breathless  with  sudden  half-un- 
derstood knowledge :  their  horses,  with  loose  bridles, 
shuffled  side  by  side  through  the  thick  carpet  of  fir 
needles,  snorting  now  and  then  with  surprise  when 


CAPE  CURREY  127 

some  wild  cat  slunk  into  the  bracken  and  protea  bush, 
leaving  a  trail  of  quivering  leaves;  or  a  partridge 
flurried  and  fluttered  up  from  beneath  their  feet;  a 
wood  pigeon  cooed  from  her  green  cover. 


CHAPTER  XI 

On  Public  Opinion 

Placaarden  ! 

"  I  was  never  blackballed  at  a  Bilbury  Meeting, 
nor  held  a  position  and  a  disgrace  among  the  Legs 
of  Newmarket.  I  never  juggled  mortal  man  in  a 
bargain,  or  fleeced  the  extravagant  and  unwary.  I 
never  was  addicted  to  horse  racing  or  cock-fighting, 
or  slurred  or  cogged  a  dice ;  nor  ever  did  I  pander  to 
my  lusts  or  my  cupidity,  through  the  medium  of  pub- 
lic spoliation  or  sneaking  private  delinquency.'* 


Three  of  these  placards  hung  In  the  Heeren- 
gracht. 

"  Allemachtig !  "  murmured  the  inhabitants  of 
Kaapstaad. 

*'  Great  Heaven !  "  muttered  the  inhabitants  of 
Cape  Town. 

Neither  cry  seemed  a  protest. 

With  all  the  haste  and  satisfaction  of  the  bour- 
geois who  fear  to  fling  filth  themselves,  they  gath- 
ered round  the  placards,  in  unvoiced  applause  of  the 
brave  canaille  who  dared  voice  the  worst  scandals 
that  they  whispered  among  themselves. 

Some  miles  away  from  the  gossiping,  chattering 
128 


CAPE  CURREY  129 

townspeople,  a  special  orderly  had  arrived  In  the 
early  dawn  at  the  Round  House,  with  a  copy  of  this 
placard  and  a  hurried  letter  from  Colonel  Bird. 

The  Governor  came  out  on  to  the  curved  high 
verandah  of  his  shooting  box.  Below,  the  shining 
blue  Indian  Ocean  swirled  and  eddied  its  waters  into 
circles  and  lines  of  foam.  From  the  high  semi-cir- 
cular stoep,  shaded  with  sweet  scented  purple  syr- 
Inga,  low  clipped  hedges  of  myrtle  bordered  the  ter- 
races down  to  the  edge  of  the  cliffs.  A  dark  line 
of  flaming  crimson  and  gold  marked  the  flowering 
aloe  hedge,  which  lined  the  white  sands.  The 
rugged  Mountain  barrier,  in  great  divided  battle- 
ments, the  "  Castle  "  mountains,  guarding  the  coast 
to  the  north  and  south,  seemed  unsolid  dancing  giants 
in  the  heat  haze:  "  The  Twelve  Apostles,"  quoted 
Sir  Rufane  Donkin,  rounding  the  stormy  coast  one 
bright  day  from  Port  Elizabeth,  seeking  sanctuary 
in  Cape  Town  after  the  squabbles  of  the  new  East- 
ern Provinces,  held  in  trust  while  Lord  Charles  mar- 
ried a  daughter  to  a  Wyndham  and  took  to  himself 
a  wife  —  which  affairs  meant  leave  of  absence.  So 
the  rugged  peaks  remained  "  The  Twelve  Apos- 
tles." 

It  was  not  yet  eight  o'clock. 

Josias  Cloete,  in  a  fluttering  garment,  ran  up  from 
the  bay  below,  still  dripping  and  flushed  from  his 
early  bath. 


I30  CAPE  CURREY 

His  Excellency  met  him. 

"  They  have  sent  up  a  special  courier,  Josias,  with 
a  damnable  piece  of  Impudence,  as  a  welcome  to  the 
Commissioners  who  have  arrived.  Mr.  BIgge  is 
riding  up  here  now.     Look  at  this." 

The  Governor  handed  Cloete  the  Placard  that 
had  greeted  the  lazy  eyes  of  the  Cape  Town  inhab- 
itants that  morning.  Joslas  went  redder,  and 
cursed  In  Dutch,  which  was  a  sure  sign  that  it  came 
from  the  heart. 

At  that  moment  Georgiana  and  Mr.  Keppel  ap- 
peared, followed  by  Barry.  Georgiana  saw  that 
something  was  amiss:  Barry  joined  the  Governor 
and  went  off  towards  the  stables. 

At  breakfast  the  Governor  discussed  the  precip- 
itated arrival  of  the  Commissioners  and  laughed  as 
he  threw  into  Georgiana's  lap  the  hurried  note  from 
Colonel  Bird  announcing  the  fact. 

"  Georgle,  me  love,"  he  leant  across  the  table, 
and  spoke  low  to  her  alone,  "here's  your  affair! 
Something  Bigger  —  certainly  more  distinctly  Big- 
ger than  our  little  surgeon  —  John  BIgge,  principal 
Commissioner !  So  smile  on  him,  me  lady,  and  have 
your  little  revenge,  and  see  to  it  that  Josias  there 
does  not  put  a  stake  in  his  heart." 

"  Or  that  our  gallant  surgeon  does  not  split  him 
up  in  a  duel/'  said  Mr.  Keppel,  who  had  overheard 


CAPE  CURREY  131 

the  conversation  and  had  a  very  one-sided  account  of 
the  duel  affair,  confided  to  him  by  Barry. 

''  It  means,  though,  that  our  retreat  here  is  of  very 
short  duration;  the  moment  Bigge  arrives  we  leave 
for  the  town."  The  Governor  looked  across  to  his 
wife,  "  And  you,  m'lady,  do  you  stop  on  with  the 
horses  or  come  down  again  to  the  hot  town?  ' 

Lady  Charles  laughed. 

"  It  becomes  a  fond  husband  to  think  of  his  wife's 
health :  the  hot  town,  my  dear,  will  have  to  sweat  and 
pant  without  me.  I  have  hired  six  feet  of  the  cold- 
est water  in  the  world  —  among  the  rocks  below  us 
—  and  I  shall  send  you  a  courier,  my  dear,  twice  a 
day,  down  to  the  hot  town,  with  the  exact  chart  of 
the  temperature  of  that  pool.  Some  of  the  ponies 
of  course  will  stay  behind." 

*'  Georgiana,  do  you  go?  " 

*'  I  fear  it  is  imperative,"  replied  Miss  Somerset. 
*'  Dr.  James,  will  you  accompany  us?  " 

Georgiana,  with  a  deep  frown  puckering  all  the 
softness  of  her  forehead,  re-read  a  letter  that  a  tall 
Van  Breda  slave  had  carried  up  to  the  Round  House 
in  the  early  dawn. 

Aletta  had,  it  appeared,  not  slept  that  night,  so 
tormented  was  she  by  the  overburdening  secrets  con- 
fided by  Dirk. 

The  fact  seemed  clear  —  there  were  to  be  more 


132  CAPE  CURREY 

placards  with  grosser  Insults  —  that  even  Dirk  had 
quailed  and  refused  collaboration  —  the  slave  was 
the  person  who  posted  them  up  —  how  awful  it  all 
was.  She  had  no  hold  over  Dirk:  he  swearing  "  she 
had  driven  him  mad  —  that  he  loathed  all  the  Eng- 
lish " —  ("Most  especially,  I  fancy"  added  Aletta 
In  a  postscript,  "  Captain  Cadogan.") 

Georgiana,  after  reading  this,  had  a  short  inter- 
view with  Barry,  whispered  with  an  air  of  Impor- 
tance, In  which  interview  Barry  undertook  some  ar- 
rangements not  Included  In  Lord  Charles'  orders  for 
the  day;  then  she  climbed  up  the  Lion's  Head  hill  be- 
hind the  Round  House,  reached,  breathless,  a  little 
grove  of  Silver  trees  hedged  round  by  purple  flower- 
ing shrubs,  flung  herself  on  the  crisp  silver  leaves  — 
and  thought. 

At  reading  the  Placard  hurriedly,  having  seized 
it  from  Josias'  hand,  she  had  failed  to  value  the  foul 
insinuations  or  to  feel  the  depth  of  the  insult.  Lady 
Charles,  she  knew,  held  herself  aloof  from  all  wran- 
gllngs  —  governmental  or  otherwise,  finding  a  dis- 
cursive form  of  loving,  which  materialized  Into  a 
vague  kiss  or  a  vaguer  pat  sufficient  to  keep  har- 
mony between  herself  and  her  husband,  she  had 
merely  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  sniffed  when 
reading  the  Anonymous  Epistle  over  Georglana's 
shoulder,  and  then  had  blown  a  dainty  and  ethereal 
kiss  across  the  verandah  to  Lord  Charles  —  with 


CAPE  CURREY  133 

"  My  Poor  Love  " —  as  an  extra  sop.  Georglana, 
turning  for  breath,  during  her  rushing  climb  up  the 
hill,  had  seen  her  slim  white-garbed  figure  wending 
towards  the  sea  through  the  yellow  protea  and  pur- 
ple flowers  of  the  sea  slopes,  followed  by  two  women 
slaves,  carrying  on  their  red  turbans  her  ladyship's 
bathing  dress  and  towels. 

"  Her  ladysip  veery  fond  of  herself,"  the  old 
slave  Rachael  had  remarked  one  day  to  herself,  but 
loud  enough  for  Georgiana  to  hear.  Rachael  had 
been  the  first  Lady  Charles'  tire-woman,  taking  sole 
charge  of  her  dressing  room  and  wardrobe.  At 
the  advent  of  the  French  maid  Adeline  with  her  new 
ladyship,  Rachael,  who  hailed  from  St.  Helena  and 
prided  herself  on  having  less  black  blood  than  the 
other  slave  women  possessed  —  fallen  from  her  high 
estate  to  something  less  distinctive  —  under  Ade- 
line, mumbled  loudly,  while  accepting  her  sad  lot. 

All  dark  races  have  that  aptitude  of  the  carica- 
turist enabling  them  to  hit  to  a  nicety,  by  some 
aptly  chosen  definition,  the  peculiarity  or  particular 
attribute  of  the  persons  over  them.  It  is  as  if  the 
subconscious  recognized  inferiority  has  found  its  re- 
venge .  .  .  for  even  when  the  Superior  has  found 
favor  in  their  eyes,  the  nickname  is  almost  always 
spiteful:  therefore  was  their  new  Ladyship,  "She 
who  loves  herself  "  to  every  slave  in  the  capital  .  .  . 
*'  My  Ladysip  " —  in  their  best  English. 


134  CAPE  CURREY 

Slowly,  through  Miss  Somerset's  brain,  the  poison 
of  the  Placard  worked  its  way;  only  some  of  its  vile- 
ness  was  remembered.  "  Sneaking  private  delin- 
quency!" The  last  sentence  made  her  hold  her 
breath  in  horror  and  her  little  face  flushed,  then 
paled,  and  flushed  again. 

"  Loathsome  people  .  .  .  how  dared  they?  .  .  . 
"  juggled  mortal  man  in  a  bargain  "...  prompted 
her  memory:  and  she  repeated  it  slowly  over  to  her- 
self, as  if  failing  through  utter  horror  to  grasp  its 
meaning  .  .  .  "blackballed!  .  .  .  pander"  .  .  . 
prompted  memory. 

''  Dear  Heavens !  "  gasped  Georgiana,  "  the 
Pigs !  "  She  was  not  certain  she  fully  understood 
the  whole  import  of  the  libel,  but  no  doubt  Aletta 
who  always  knew  so  much  more  than  she  did  would 
enlighten  her.  Aletta  was  Dutch,  and  somehow 
Dutch  girls  seemed  to  be  very  wise.  Georgiana  was 
shocked  at  times  at  the  unlimited  knowledge  be- 
trayed by  Aletta,  and  sometimes  found  herself  wish- 
ing to  forget  her  newly  acquired  wisdom.  So  over- 
powered was  she  by  the  fact  that  there  were  yet 
depths  she  could  not  fathom. 

There  were  days  full  of  ridings  and  picnics  and 
excursions,  days  of  laughter  and  sunshine  passed  on 
Flats  or  Mountain :  and  during  the  days  —  one  for- 
got. But  then  there  were  nights.  And  it  was  dur- 
ing the  nights  that  remembrance  came :  the  hot  still 


CAPE  CURREY  135 

nights  when  one  sheet  as  a  covering  seemed  an  un- 
bearable weight  upon  her  slim,  hot  little  body:  nights 
when  the  cicada  sang  and  hummed  unweariedly 
among  the  gum  trees  outside  her  window,  and  the 
small  green  frogs  m  the  water  beyond  the  white  gar- 
den wall  croaked  In  chorus :  nights  whe-n  she  tossed 
and  turned,  tired  yet  sleepless,  the  pillows  growing 
hot  beneath  her  restless  head,  turned  and  turned 
again  with  eyes  half  closed  in  weariness;  and  always 
the  relentless  memory  wide  awake  and  remindful: 
then  great  unrest  would  seize  her:  limbs  refused  to 
remain  extended,  and  brushing  aside  the  entangling 
mosquito  curtain  with  hot  hands  she  would  feel  the 
cool  hard  floor  under  her  naked  feet  and  grope  her 
way  to  the  moonlit  world  outside  the  window:  her 
body  pressed  against  the  cool  plaster  wall,  arms  wide 
apart  and  the  warm  breeze,  heavy  with  sea  moisture 
from  the  dark  bay,  playing  round  the  frills  of  her 
nightdress:  as  in  Nature  flowers  unfold  in  graceful 
strength  new  petals  during  the  night  and  are  ready 
to  greet  the  sun,  fresh  with  the  dews  of  night  yet 
upon  them,  so  after  one  of  these  "  awaking  "  nights 
and  hours  passed  at  the-  windows,  facing  the  half- 
opened  wonders  and  facts  of  her  sex  and  her  world, 
at  the  first  pale  glow  of  dawn,  suddenly,  as  if  en- 
chanted, the  hot,  heavy-smelling  sea  air  became  a 
sharp  chilling  invigorating  breeze,  cooling  the  fever 
of  the  night;  and  very  soon  she  would  summon  her 


136  CAPE  CURREY 

maid,  and  buttoned  Into  her  long  blue  riding  habit 
would  canter  down,  more  often  alone  than  attended, 
to  the  white  sands  of  the  Bay  —  and  would  reach  it 
before  the  sun  too.  But  here  among  the  dry  silver 
leaves,  crackling  with  her  slightest  movement,  to  be 
obliged  to  face  these  night  ghosts,  and  to  know  that 
evil  things  were  thought  by  day  and  saw  the  sun,  and, 
indeed,  were  written,  was  too  overcoming  to  be  sup- 
ported. It  was  hot  .  .  ,  people  were  horrid  .  .  . 
how  steep  the  hill  had  been  .  .  .  unbearable  .  .  . 
and  yet  the  others  did  not  appear  to  mind  much  .  .  . 
stupid:  then  she  relapsed  into  French  ..."  c'etalt 
epouvantable ! 

chose  degoutante! 

—  abominable !  " 

all  the  most  unladylike,  schoolroom-forbidden  evi- 
dences of  disgust.  Exhausting  these,  she  fell  to 
weeping:  she  stretched  her  poor  little  self  among 
the  crisp  leaves  and  wept  little  salt  lakes  among 
them. 

When  she  had  cried  for  half  an  hour,  she  untied 
an  embroidered  reticule  she  had  taken  from  her 
room  when  leaving  the  house:  from  a  small  silver 
flagon  she  moistened  her  handkerchief  and  dabbed  it 
over  the  little  red  nose  and  on  to  her  redder  eye- 
lids; presently  from  an  enamel  box  she  took  some 
ointment,  and  with  the  aid  of  a  minute  looking  glass, 
proceeded  to  salve  her  features.     Then  she  opened 


CAPE  CURREY  137 

a  small  watch  and  looked  at  the  hour.  Still  some 
time  before  the  Governor  and  his  party  were  to  leave 
for  the  town.  Replacing  everything  In  the  bead- 
embroidered  reticule,  she  crossed  her  hands  and 
looked  towards  the  sea.  ''  As  Mljnheer  says,  one 
must  a  '  plan  make,'  "  and  "  one  does  what  one  can," 
she  sighed.  "  I  feel  a  hundred  times  better.  In- 
deed all  this  should  be  no  surprise  to  me.  First  we 
had  the  scandal  of  the  horse  and  the  slave-girl  — ■ 
damn  these  Dutchmen !  It  appears  every  one  of 
them  has  six  or  more  freed  slave-girls.  Charles 
Henry  is  no  saint,  I  fear.  In  spite  of  her  new  ladyship  : 
certainly  she  should  suffer  the  hot  town  and  go  with 
him  and  do  the  honors  to  these  Interfering  BIrdltes. 
I  can  imagine  the  unprejudiced  attitude  of  the  Com- 
mission, when  Bird,  Pringle  and  Company  have  seen 
them  for  two  hours." 

Feeling  again  the  need  of  tears,  mindful  of  the 
perfection  of  the  pomading  and  the  scarcity  of  elder- 
flower  water  in  this  land,  she  started  off  again  higher 
up  the  mountain,  helping  herself  by  the  old  corroded 
chains  that  hung  round  the  rocks  —  souvenirs  of  the 
days  only  just  passed,  when  the  watchman  of  the 
oceans  would  signal  by  a  fire  lighted  on  the  summit 
the  arrival  of  the  mail  or  other  vessels:  and  also  as 
a  warning  to  the  rounders  of  the  Cape  of  Storms. 
Arrived  at  the  top,  the  wonderful  panorama  of 
oceans  lay  before  her.     Immediately  to  her  left  was 


138  CAPE  CURREY 

the  big  white  cross  of  the  Portuguese,  scarred  into 
the  rock,  branding  the  Cape;  before  this  sign  the 
hordes  of  Hottentots  and  Bushmen  retreated  beyond 
the  barrier  mountains  of  Africa.  Further  below, 
the  surf  fringed  the  downs  of  Green  Point;  a  whale 
spouted  playfully  between  the  mainland  and  Robben 
Island,  the  small  rock  island  of  rabbits  that  lay  at  the 
entrance  to  the  Bay,  used  as  a  whale  fishery.  She 
could  see  the  English  ship  that  had  brought  the  Com- 
missioners, her  half  furled  sails  still  fluttering  in  the 
breeze;  flying  many  flags  too,  and  surrounded  by 
innumerable  busy  rowing  boats.  She  wondered 
whether  some  day  the  wonderful  blue  bay  would  be 
filled  with  those  curious  steam  boats  she  had  heard 
of.  (She  saw  the  Liverpool^  first  steamship  to 
make  a  voyage  to  the  Cape  —  that  was  more  than 
a  year  later.) 

There  was  no  shade  from  the  scorching  sun:  she 
crept  into  the  shadow  of  a  huge  boulder  where  sweet- 
smelling  wild  jasmine  and  red  crassula  grew  from 
the  crevices  of  the  rocks;  a  lazy  snake  wriggled  into 
the  tangled  low  bushes.  She  glanced  again  at  her 
watch.  *'  Ah,  now  they  have  left,"  she  murmured, 
"  and  if  I  am  not  mistaken  in  Dr.  James'  capacity, 
Mr.  Commissioner  John  Bigge  is  left  behind,  and  I 
will  accompany  him  into  the  Lion's  Den"  (so  she 
called  the  witnesses  for  this  Royal  Commission). 

So   Georgiana   Somerset   had   made    a    "  plan." 


CAPE  CURREY  139 

Things  went  better  for  her  than  she  dared  antici- 
pate. As  she  cHmbed  slowly  and  thoughtfully, 
down  the  steep  mountain  side,  she  heard  the  queer 
rustle  of  bushes  that  are  parted  quietly  Georgiana 
heard  the  repeated  sound  many  times  and  then  she 
stopped,  took  out  from  the  reticule  a  small  packet, 
which  she  held  half  open  in  her  hand  —  Barry  had 
given  her  this  idea  when  he  first  came  to  the  Cape 
and  Georgiana  never  rode  or  walked  about  the 
mountains  alone  without  this  small  packet  of  red 
pepper:  not  that  there  was  much  danger;  runaway 
slaves  certainly  escaped  to  the  caves  on  Table  Moun- 
tain or  on  to  the  seashore  among  the  rocks,  but  they 
preferred  starvation  to  the  risk  of  attacking  for  rob- 
bery. But  once  Georgiana  had  found  a  cave,  low 
and  white,  on  the  mountain  near  Hout  Bay;  she  had 
crawled  in  on  her  hands  and  knees,  and  a  furry  soft 
body  had  slunk  past  her  into  the  light,  and  then,  as 
she  lay  petrified,  with  all  her  blood  in  her  veins  con- 
gealed, another  slim  creature  had  poked  its  head 
through  the  opening  of  the  cave;  it  sniffed  and  nosed 
round.  She  saw  the  bright  eyes  of  the  wild  cat  or 
Cape-tiger  —  a  species  of  lynx.  When  she  could 
move  she  crept  into  the  light.  She  noticed  the 
trail  of  the  animal  among  the  crushed  wild  geranium 
bushes  whose  fragrance  scented  the  air. 

Now,  the  terror  of  that  experience  rushed  back 
to  her;  she  scrambled  on  to  a  mass  of  granite  and 


I40  CAPE  CURREY 

looked  around;  then  seeing  nothing,  passed  into  a 
narrow  avenue  of  oak  trees,  when  from  the  low  firs 
came  a  muffled  cry,  followed  By  others  —  piteous 
sounds.  Georgiana's  heart  ceased  to  thump  into  her 
ribs;  she  recognized  those  familiar  sounds;  but  she 
foresaw  a  dramatic  coup,  in  which  her  terror  could 
be  made  a  fascinating  background.  She  fled  along 
the  avenue,  saw  a  tall  man  coming  towards  her,  gave 
one  yell  and  flung  herself  into  his  arms.  Only  to 
spring  out  of  them:  heaven  knows  they  made  no  ef- 
fort to  detain  her !  John  Thomas  Bigge  had 
scarcely  anticipated  this  assault.  He  looked  at  Miss 
Somerset  and  offered  his  handkerchief. 

"  Oh,  Sir,"  sobbed  Georgiana,  "  I  am  terrified. 
Oh!  would  you  very  much  object  to  .  .  ."  she 
glanced  up  at  the  stern  pale  face  of  John  Bigge  and 
changed  her  mind. 

"  Indeed,  Madame,"  stammered  Bigge,  "  I  should 
be.  .  .  ."  He  could  not  guess,  poor  idiot,  that  he 
had  better  take  her  in  his  arms  and  dry  her  eyes  and 
imagine  the  end  of  the  story. 

Georgiana  dried  her  own  eyes  and  held  out  a  very 
stately  conventional  hand. 

"  I  am  Georgiana  Somerset,  and  you  must  be  the 
Commissioner !  I  am  afraid  they  have  been  beating 
a  slave  somewhere  in  the  bushes:  it  frightened  me. 
Shall  we  go  down  to  the  house?  " 

Bigge  gave  her  his  arm,  and  she  chattered  to  him, 


CAPE  CURREY  141 

leaving  him  one  or  two  opportunities  to  explain  how 
he  had  ridden  up  to  find  the  Governor  had  set  off 
for  the  town.  ("  Oh,  and  left  me  behind?  "  from 
Georglana,  not  at  all  surprised)  — that,  as  Miss 
Somerset  was  not  to  be  found,  he  had  begged  to  re- 
main behind  with  Mr.  Penderby  and  Dr.  Barry  to 
accompany  her  to  Government  House.  Arrived  on 
the  round  verandah,  Miss  Somerset  glanced  her 
thanks  at  Barry. 

I-n  three  mlnute-s,  In  her  long  blue  habit  she  was 
ready  to  start.  The  opportunity  for  half  an  hour 
or  more  alone  with  the  First  Commissioner  seemed 
heaven  assisted.  She  rode  with  him  In  front  of 
the  two  men,  and  BIgge  heard  from  her  lips  the 
queer  state  of  the  dissatisfied  Colony. 

"  They  have  given  a  Herculean  task  to  poor 
Charles  Henry,  Sir:  they  cannot  understand  that  It 
is  a  British  Colony.  If  anything  Is  done  for  the 
Dutch,  bribery  they  say;  If  these  things  are  done  for 
the  English,  maltreatment,  and  prejudice.  Is  their 
cry.  They  are  lazy  people,  Sir,  with  no  sense  of 
responsibility.  Lady  Anne  Barnard  started  the  con- 
ciliation Idea  —  the  women  came  to  her  parties  and 
the  men  laughed  —  that  Is  what  happens  all  the 
while.  Sir  Rufane,  the  Acting  Governor,  waxed 
sentimental  over  any  one  with  a  Dutch  name,  but  It 
doesn't  Improve  matters  on  the  Border;  It  did  not 
make  the  Graff  Relnet — ." 


142  CAPE  CURREY 

"  What  Is  that?  "  said  the  Commissioner. 

("  Oh,  heaven!  "  groaned  Miss  Somerset.) 

Then  she  proceeded  to  tell  John  Bigge  a  few 
things  about  Africa  and  the  p-olicy  of  Lord  Charles 
that  would  have  come  as  a  new  history  to  the  Co- 
lonial Secretary  —  possibly  a  somewhat  prejudiced 
view  of  Lord  Charles'  difficulties;  but  she  sorted 
Pringle  the  negrophilist,  Fairbairn  with  his  free 
press  ("A  most  dangerous  monopoly  when  all  pub- 
lic opinion  is  based  on  lies,"  murmured  Georgiana)  : 
the  aggressive  Bishop  Burnett  and  his  discontented 
Settlers;  Edwards  the  convict;  she  ticketed  them  all 
as  dangerous  witnesses,  whimpered  their  epitaphs 
as  asides  addressed  to  herself;  then  started  with  the 
troubles  of  the  Dutch  malcontents.  "  His  Excel- 
lency to  meet  the  demands  of  the  English,  advised 
English  in  Court  and  officially  —  after  all  we  are 
an  English  Colony:  now  the  Dutch  are  grumbling; 
their  precious  and  most  monstrous  language  Is  rele- 
gated; but  the  strange  part  is  that  even  the  greatest 
enemies  speak  a  Taal  —  that  is,  their  amazing  lan- 
guage composed  of  Dutch,  German,  Portuguese  and 
English  —  to  their  slaves,  and  bad  English  among 
themselves." 

When  she  gave  him  a  chance,  Bigge  lumbered  Into 
the  conversation,  not  too  startled  by  her  intelligence 
to  forget  to  observe  her  nose  and  her  dancing  blue 
eyes. 


CAPE  CURREY  143 

"  But  I  Imagine  the  Dutch  are  really  pioneers, 
and  pioneers  unless  they  marry  will  never  make 
citizens." 

"  Ah,  yes,  they  are  fighters  from  that  strongest  of 
incentives,  discontent  and  intolerance  and  protection. 
But  they  have  no  initiative.  They  carry  guns  and 
bibles,  but  their  horizon  never  widens;  they  get  no 
work  from  the  conquered  nigger;  they  press  Into 
the  wilds  and  take  their  families,  to  grow  enough 
food  —  and  there  it  may  end.  They  loathe  Inter- 
ference, which  Is  their  name  for  Progress.  If  they 
cannot  swallow  up  the  invading  nationality,  as  they 
did  the  Huguenots,  they  become  intolerant  of  prog- 
ress and  new  settlers." 

Then,  this  Georgiana  worked  a  miracle.  She 
subtly  brought  Bird,  the  Colonial  Secretary,  Into 
the  mass  of  Information  she  poured  into  Bigge's 
fascinated  ears:  that  he,  Bird,  had  objected  to  the 
Governor  being  represented  at  the  Commission's 
sittings:  how  obviously  unjust  It  would  be,  etc.,  etc. 

"  But,"  said  John  Bigge,  *'  the  Inspector  of  Gov- 
ernment lands  makes  up  our  number." 

"  You  will  find.  Sir,  Mr.  d'Escarey  a  most  preju- 
diced person:  and  it  appears  the  chief  accused  Is 
to  have  no  advocate:  that.  Sir,  is  not  justice.  His 
Excellency  will  be  asked  to  sign  his  own  indictments 
without  having  an  occasion  to  refute  them.  Ah, 
Sir,  you  will  see  only  too  clearly  the  mass  of  inven- 


144  CAPE  CURREY 

tions  a-nd  scandals  that  any  gentleman,  who  is  not  a 
low-class  Scotch  settler  or  a  Dutchman,  Is  open  to. 
Indeed,  Indeed,  Sir,  It  fills  me  with  a  great  desire  to 
weep,  Sir."      (Georglana's  eyes  filled  with  tears.) 

There  was  silence.  Broken  by  tiny  sniffs  from 
Georglana ;  John  BIgge,  feeling  uncomfortable,  paid 
great  attention  to  the  landscape. 

"...  A  desire  to  weep  ...  If  I  but  had  my 
handkerchief — "  murmured  Georglana. 

More  sniffs.  ("  Heavens,  what  a  dolt !  "  thought 
Miss  Somerset.) 

Then  she  turned  on  him,  drew  her  horse  up 
short,  tears  racing  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Ah,  Sir,  will  you  be  agre-eable  enough  to  loan 
me  yours?  " 

"Yes,  yes,  indeed,"  stuttered  BIgge,  viewing  ac- 
tion with  such  relief  that  Georglana  nearly  tittered. 

Barry,  from  a  safe  distance  behind,  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance. 

"Ca  y  est!"  he  said. 

"  What  did  you  say.  Sir?  "  Penderby  asked. 

"Nothing!  Nothing!  .  .  .  Merely  a  small  trib- 
ute to  the  success  of  the  Commission." 


CHAPTER  XII 

Mosquitoes  and  Crescendoes  in  and  Out  of 
Government  House 

Several  things  had  happened  to  the  satisfaction  of 
Lord  Charles.  In  the  place  of  Mr.  d'Escarey,  the 
Land  Settlement  Commissioner,  sat  his  own  aide-de- 
camp, the  pale  Whitefoote,  vi^ho  no  doubt  reported 
minute  details  that  might  be  omitted  in  the  written 
report —  (Georgiana  had  held  herself  responsible 
for  this  and  for  other  manoeuvres). 

Lord  Bathurst  in  England,  having  satisfied  his 
conscience  that  the  Government  was  paying  two 
Commissioners  large  salaries  to  deal  out  justice  or 
to  lend  sympathetic  ears  to  those  Colonists  who 
bombarded  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  State  for 
Colonies  with  literature  on  the  corrupt  state  of  the 
Cape  Colony,  forgot  to  remark  upon  the  length  of 
time  the  Commission  was  to  take:  it  ultimately  went 
into  years  —  a  thing  much  commented  upon  later. 

During  this  time  the  wooing  of  Commissioner 
John  Bigge  took  place,  strangely  encouraged  by 
Lord  Charles,  regarded  by  Georgiana  as  inevitable 
and  the  only  possible  reward:  though  she  sometimes 
wondered  if  the  reward  was  not  impossible. 

145 


146  CAPE  CURREY 

The  Governor  entertained  the  Commission  of 
Enquiry  at  Government  House  with  dances  and 
dinners. 

Georglana  went  up  to  her  room  at  eleven  o'clock, 
and  found  Aletta  curled  up  asleep  In  the  big  cre- 
tonne covered  chair,  her  long  riding  habit  soaked, 
trailing  and  twisting  about  her. 

She  woke  as  Georglana  closed  the  door. 

"  Oh,  Georglana  — "  and  she  began  to  cry.  "  I'm 
so  tired,"  she  gasped  between  her  sobs,  "  and  I've 
heard  and  seen  such  things." 

"  I  was  riding  along  by  the  Salt  River  mouth. 
My  horse  put  his  off  leg  in  a  quicksand  —  Oh, 
Georgle !  —  we  sank,  and  sank,  and  I  screamed,  and 
no  one  came.  I  was  so  afraid  to  die  like  that,  all 
alone  in  the  wind  and  water."     She  shivered. 

Georglana  began  undoing  her  wet  habit,  and  rang 
the  bell. 

Her  own  English  maid  answered  It. 

"  Tell  the  hall  porter  to  send  up  an  orderly  at 
once  to  Orangezicht  to  say  that  Miss  Aletta  is  stay- 
ing here  to-night." 

This  gave  time  for  the  recovery  of  Aletta. 

*'  And  so,  dear,"  said  Miss  Somerset. 

"Then  poor  Vos  made  a  big  effort,  and  struggled, 
and  half  rolled  along  the  sand,  and  I  caught  at  a 
clump  of  sand  bushes  on  a  dune,  and  held  on,  and 
pulled  myself  out  of  the  saddle  up  to  the  little  dune. 


CAPE  CURREY  147 

There  I  sat  until  It  grew  so  dark  that  I  was  fright- 
ened, and  crawled  down  the  other  side  of  the  dune. 
There  I  saw  a  light  in  what  looked  like  a  boat-house. 
But  it  wasn't,  Georgiana,  it  wasn't.  I  looked 
through  the  keyhole,  and  there  was  a  slave  woman 
and  a  man  talking,  and  I  listened.  The  man  was 
writing  —  terrible  things  —  for  he  kept  telling  the 
woman  as  he  wrote :  things  I  do  not  exactly  under- 
stand. Dirk  came  into  the  room,  and  seemed  to 
quarrel  with  the  other  two;  but  Georgiana,  this  one 
thing  I  know,  they  are  going  to  hang  up  Plaacarten 
in  the  Heerengracht  to-night  —  and  —  and  —  those 
awful  things  are  to  be  written  on  them.  But  swear, 
Georgle,  swear  that  you  will  say  nothing  of  all  this. 
But  we  must  do  something;  Oh,  Georgle!  "... 

Georgiana  stood  quite  still,  looking  beyond  Alet- 
ta,  beyond  her,  beyond  the  walls  of  the  room,  with 
all  her  heart,  all  her  instincts,  all  her  mind,  tense, 
as  though  prepared  for  some  shock,  of  a  nature  she 
subconsciously  decided  that  would  include  her  in  its 
intent. 

"  I  fancy  I  would  prefer  not  to  know  the  exact 
meaning  of  what  you  have  been  saying  Aletta ;  but, 
tell  me,  does  it  —  do  they  —  mean  harm  to  Papa  — 
and  —  and  others.  Tell  me,  Aletta,  my  love." 
And  she  slid  all  crumpled  and  trembling  in  a  little 
heap  of  expectancy  at  Aletta's  side,  masses  of  blue 
tarlatan  frills,  her  little  head  .against  the  damp  rid- 


148  CAPE  CURREY 

Ing  habit,  her  long  thin  white  arms  and  hands  pick- 
ing nervously  at  the  little  bunches  and  loops  of 
cherry-colored  ribbons  which  decorated  her  dress. 
"  And  you  have  all  the  Adventures.  You  always 
appear  to  know  so  much  more  than  others." 

Aletta  shook  her  hands  Impatiently  from  her  rid- 
ing dress. 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  sufficient,  Georgie?  The 
letter  I  sent  you  at  the  Round  House !  —  Allemach- 
tig!  Maar  Georgie,  I  myself  begin  to  think  there 
are  mysteries  you  and  I  will  never  discover.  I  be- 
gin to  suspect  even  things  that  Dirk  has  hinted. 
Now  give  me  a  dry  gown  and  I  will  tell  you  more 
of  that  conversation,  overheard  while  the  water  and 
wind  kept  me  company  on  the  Salt  River  marshes." 

The  great  hall  clock  in  the  lobby  at  Government 
House  sounded  two  o'clock.  The  door  on  to  the 
stair  gallery  opened  with  all  the  preliminary  grunts 
and  groans  of  a  heavy  Dutch  door,  trying  to  be  more 
subtle  than  goes  with  its  character. 

When  it  had  creaked  enough  to  disturb  all  the 
slumbering  household.  Miss  Somerset  popped  her 
head,  and  then  her  slim  little  body,  through  the 
gap. 

The  night  lamps  from  the  hall  below  shed  faint 
light  up  the  narrow  oak  stairs.  Down  these  stairs 
crept  Miss  Somerset.  She  turned  Into  a  long 
passage  which  led  to  the  rooms  occupied  by  the  suite, 


CAPE  CURREY  149 

and  tapped  when  she  came  to  No.  8,  marked  "  Sur- 
geon-Major Barry,"  and  softly  turned  the  handle. 
Hopeless !  The  door  groaned  and  creaked.  De- 
termined to  accomplish  her  task,  she  unbolted  and 
opened  a  side  door  leading  into  the  far  end  of  the 
Stal  Plein,  stepped  out  into  the  moonlight  night, 
slunk  along  the  wall  for  fear  of  the  sentry,  and 
slipped  into  the  open  window  of  Barry's  room  — 
always  open.  The  moonlight,  almost  the  brightest 
and  clearest  in  the  world,  flooded  the  room,  and  she 
drew  the  heavy  cretonne  curtains  for  fear  of  being 
seen.  Through  the  middle  —  where  their  folds  did 
not  entirely  meet  —  a  great  ray  fell  across  Barry's 
bed.  As  Georgiana  pulled  the  curtains  to,  Barry 
sat  up.     "  Psyche  —  that  you?  " 

Georgiana's  heart  stopped  beating;  she  had  for- 
gotten the  fat  spaniel.  A  mass  seemed  to  roll 
across  the  floor  towards  the  bed,  and  amid  puffs  and 
snorts  dragged  itself  on  to  the  low  English  bed 
(Barry  insisted  upon  having  his  own  small  camp  bed 
wherever  he  slept)  ;  "  None  of  the  Dutch  wooden 
beds,  full  of  worms  —  yes,  worms,  my  Love !  — 
we  become  their  little  repast  soon  enough  too,  mal- 
gre  nous:  so  let  us  keep  clear  of  'em  as  long  as  we 
have  anything  to  say." 

Psyche  safely  installed  amid  Barry's  blankets, 
Miss  Somerset  moved  out  from  the  folds  of  the  cur- 
tains, and  groped  towards  the  chair,  where  a  pile 


I50  CAPE  CURREY 

of  clothes  lay  In  a  shapeless  heap.  She  collected  the 
uniform,  and  boots,  and  light  military  coat; 
"Barry's  clothes!  —  Barry's  room!  —  No,  none  of 
the  linen  clothes  seen  once  before !  —  and  Barry 
there  on  the  little  bed!"  These  thoughts,  under 
other  conditions,  would  have  affected  her  more; 
now  the  excitement  of  her  Intended  action  required 
the  concentration  of  every  faculty.  It  was  utterly 
necessary,  she  and  Aletta  had  come  to  this  conclu- 
sion, that  if  the  thing  had  to  be  stopped,  some  one, 
and  not  a  woman,  must  do  It. 

The  amazing  thing  of  this  adventure  is,  that  it 
seemed  to  be  proving  the  rules  of  exceptions;  for 
when  affairs  like  this  are  done  in  quick,  almost  sub- 
conscious fashion,  with  all  the  risks  taken  and  not 
much  thought  of,  they  generally  are  successful;  with 
that  queer  quality  called  luck;  as  a  fairy  godmother, 
or  a  presiding  spirit.  But  just  this  night  happened 
to  be  a  nult  blanche  for  one  of  the  Commissioners; 
(not  BIgge  —  he  was  to  hear  of  It  later),  and  this 
sleepless  man  happened  to  be  spending  the  time  hang- 
ing out  of  one  of  the  big  windows  of  the  upper 
story,  at  the  other  end  of  the  long,  flat  building.  So 
when  Georgiana,  with  a  bundle  under  arm,  stepped 
through  Barry's  window  Into  the  white  moonlight, 
crept  along  the  side  of  the  house,  half  the  body  In 
shadow,  half  exposed  to  the  searching  brightness. 


CAPE  CURREY  151 

this  sleepless  Commissioner  watched  her;  watched 
her  slip  through  the  side  door  —  and  drew  his  own 
conclusions,  which,  as  he  was  an  ordinary  English 
gentleman  of  forty  something,  and  a  trusted  adviser 
to  the  Government,  were  conventional  conclusions, 
having  no  subtleties,  and  making  no  allowances  for 
those  peculiarities  of  events  that  make  every  man's 
case  an  exception,  to  prove  the  fallacy  of  even  Imag- 
ining there  could  be  a  rule.  ''  There  is  no  lie  in 
the  world  Hke  the  truth,"  said  someone;  far  too  ob- 
noxious a  truth  in  itself  to  be  unanimously  adopted. 
Also,  sleepless  nights  are  not  the  special  moments 
of  life  to  make  allowances  for  midnight  adventures, 
and  of  the  various  reasons  that  drove  Miss  Somerset 
to  run  these  risks. 

The  Commissioner  withdrew  rapidly  Into  his 
room,  and  thought  what  a  damn  pity  it  was  that 
the  exigencies  of  life  bred  this  taste  for  Adventure; 
and  moreover,  he  remembered  one  or  two  little  epi- 
sodes wherein  were  no  extenuating  circumstances, 
but  just  ''  damn  good  life  and  spirits,"  and  then  he 
lit  the  tall  Dutch  candle  because  he  saw  too  many 
things  in  the  darkness,  things  that  might  interfere 
with  the  work  of  a  Government  Commissioner.  .  .  . 
He  came  back  to  his  original  "  moutons."  So 
"  She  " —  the  little  Thing  with  the  enquiring  nose  — 
was  not  anything  less  than  a  naughty  young  Miss; 
and  old  John  Bigge  !  gosh !     Poor  John  !  —  he  was 


152  CAPE  CURREY 

going  to  make  a  peculiar  fool  of  himself  —  for  this 
little  baggage  too ! !     No,  that  was  too  much :  this 
honest  John !     Ah,  no !     It  was  the  Surgeon  and 
the  Daughter  then.     This  painted  a  different  com- 
plexion on  one  side  of  the  case  .  .  .  perhaps  less 
cause  for  amazement  .  .   .  though  God  knew  what 
a  young  thing  like  that  saw  in  the  little  coxcomb. 
But  poor  honest  John !  .   .   .   and  Mr.  Commissioner 
became  so  agitated  that  he  hopped  out  of  bed  once 
more,   and  buzzed  about  the  room  like   a   furious 
mosquito,  all  in  his  friendly  concern  and  interest  for 
Mr.  Commissioner  John  Bigge,  who,  God  knows, 
should  have  known  better  than  to  drag  a  Special 
Commission  into  entanglements:  it  was  like  trying 
to  domesticate  a  Phoenix  that  ought  to  die  when  its 
hour   arrives:    and   here   was   John    forsaking  the 
Phoenix  duties  for  tender  passages  and  prejudiced 
Interviews  with  the  entire  Somerset  family:  —  there 
were  enough  yappings  too,  over  the  continual  pres- 
ence of  this  Surgeon  in  the  Governor's  society  — 
(here  Mr.   Mosquito  Commissioner  poured  out  a 
glass  of  water  and  washed  down  the  nasty  taste: 
then  continued  walking) .      "  But  here  was  his  daugh- 
ter popping  out   of   Barry's  bedroom   at  —  what 
time?"      (He  caught  the  tall  candle   and  peered 
into  the  face  of  the  clock)    "Yes!  half  past  two 
o'clock!"      (Here  he  singed  his  hair,  which  grew 
with  all  its  concentrated  energies  on  the  limited  space 


CAPE  CURREY  153 

of  one  inch  of  head,  immediately  over  the  left  tem- 
ple; if  possible,  he  would  have  placed  some  kind  of 
enclosure  around  this  precious  preserve,  for  he  prized 
it  above  rubies,  it  being  all  the  hair  there  was  — 
and  then  —  Jehosophat!  Damme!  to  have  it  de- 
stroyed all  because  he  was  in  a  state  over  an  elderly 
man,  who  was  making  himself  a  puppet  and  a  fool, 
and  a  gouty  fool  at  that :  the  game  was  not  worth  the 
candle,  much  less  worth  this  further  sacrifice  of 
hair.) 

Ah,  ye  unfortunates !  who,  with  eyes  that  fain 
would  deceive  themselves,  have  watched  each  month 
the  dwindling  efforts  of  the  few  remaining  sprays 
of  thinning  hair:  ye  who  have  endeavored  to  re- 
member that  there  are  other  things  in  the  world 
than  a  fine  head  of  hair.  "  Were  it  not  better  to 
be  bald,  scant  of  hair,  than  to  be  near  that  class  of 
artist  whose  locks  fall  in  cascades  of  slovenliness 
over  his  art";  such  thoughts  of  consolation:  but 
meantime,  let  us  cling  to  the  remaining  few,  brushed 
with  care,  each  sorted  and  separated  over  the  glossy 
surface.  Ah !  it  docs  not  make  such  a  bad  show ! 
and  we  remember  that  men  of  little  hair  have  had 
successes,  yes,  we  have  known  (thank  heaven!) 
younger  men  than  ourselves  with  less:  and  it  is  man- 
ners that  maketh  man,  and  not  hair  —  certainly  not 
hair.  But  groom  on,  brush  on,  massage  night  and 
morning,  oil,  pomade,  and  rejoice,  rejoice  over  the 


154  CAPE  CURREY 

resurrection  of  each  frail  departing  hair.  They 
that  are  easier  to  count  than  the  sands  upon  the  sea- 
shore. Oh !  how  very  human !  How  one  rejoices 
to  find  these  little  traits  that  are  so  carefully  hidden 
by  the  linked  armor  worn  by  tinker,  tailor,  soldier, 
sailor  and  Special  Commissioner;  may  Time  deal 
gently  with  your  shadows  —  and  your  hair,  Gentle- 
men! 

Georgiana,  by  this  time  busily  buttoning  herself 
unfamiHarly  into  Barry's  uniform,  helped  by  Aletta, 
in  a  very  few  minutes  was  out  alone,  on  her  way  to 
the  garden  gate  which  led  Into  the  "  Avenue." 
From  there,  she  walked  along  the  banks  of  the  canal, 
which  continued  the  length  of  the  Heerengracht 
Street  (so  soon  to  change  Its  name  to  the  less  fa- 
miliar one  of  Adderly).  The  town  slept.  She 
passed  no  one  on  her  walk,  and  even  if  she  had,  she 
would  not  have  noticed,  her  mind  was  so  Intensely 
occupied  with  this  Thing  she  was  to  do :  to  save  the 
honor  of  the  Somersets,  and  the  honor  of  the  little 
sleeping  surgeon. 

Arrived  at  the  corner  of  the  New  Exchange,  the 
"  Placaarden,"  pasted  on  the  little  kiosque  that 
stood  outside  the  chain  enclosure,  caught  her  eye. 
The  moonlight  in  Africa  dispenses  with  need  of  ar- 
tificial light,  and  the  moon  poured  down  upon  this 
vile  libel;  and  even  In  her  cold  rays  Miss  Somerset's 
face  flushed  crimson  as  she  read;  flushed  and  paled. 


CAPE  CURREY  155 

and  flushed  again:  "  the  foulness  of  It!  "  As  she 
stood  on  tiptoe  to  reach  the  evil  thing,  an  early 
morning  market  cart,  on  its  way  to  the  Greenmarket 
Square,  stopped  opposite  the  Exchange,  a  voice 
called  out  In  Dutch,  "  Hie  man.  Is  that  you,  Davie, 
is  that  you?  "  From  the  shadow  of  the  Exchange 
a  man  appeared;  the  Davie  sought  for. 

Georglana  prayed  that  he  had  not  seen  her,  and 
crept  around  the  kiosque  into  the  shadow. 
"  Davie  "  crossed  to  his  friend  who  drove  the  cart, 
and  they  remained  in  conversation,  making  further 
movement  for  Georglana  impossible.  Her  project 
for  the  destruction  of  the  Placard  must  be  postponed. 
Whoever  would  have  imagined  that  a  market  cart, 
with  a  driver  and  a  Davie,  would  have  planted  them- 
selves in  the  moonlight,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, before  the  Exchange?  For  half  an  hour  or 
more  Miss  Somerset  remained  in  the  shadowed  side 
of  the  kiosque,  suffering  agonies  of  physical  and  men- 
tal discomfort,  for  Barry's  uniform,  after  all,  was 
made  for  Barry.  But  as  the  farmer  and  his  friend 
showed  no  signs  of  leaving  their  position,  Georglana, 
fearing  further  market  carts,  slipped  away  behind 
the  kiosque  into  Grave  Street,  and  on  to  the  Parade, 
from  there  to  the  seashore,  fringing  the  Castle  walls. 

She  had  no  Intention  of  leaving  that  lying  placard 
one  minute  longer  than  need  be;  but  overwrought 
nerves,  the  strain  of  the  night,  the  horror  of  the 


156  CAPE  CURREY 

shock  of  seeing  written  on  paper  what  Aletta  had 
cried  over  In  telling  her,  proved  too  much  to  be 
reckoned  with.  Poor  little  Miss  Somerset,  cum 
Barry,  walked  a  little  deeper  into  the  warm  white 
sand,  and  watched  with  tired  blue  eyes  the  sparkling 
brilliant  pathway  of  the  moonlight  across  the  bay: 
one  of  those  dear,  wonderful,  satisfying  pictures  that 
Nature  supplies,  while  men  are  making  the  earth 
just  a  little  more  hideous.  Since  immemorial  Time 
the  moon  has  made  pathways  of  light  across  the 
waters;  we  have  looked  at  it  to-day,  and  yesterday, 
and  to-morrow  again,  and  we  nestle  Into  the  great 
harmonious  mood  of  Nature  till  sleep  comes,  ere 
our  eyes  grow  accustomed  to  the  sight. 

The  Honorable  Georglana  Somerset  slept.  She 
woke  two  hours  later  with  the  dawn  light  on  her 
face,  and  cold,  fresh  little  waves  lapping  over  Major 
Barry's  boots,  took  five  minutes  to  collect  the  various 
reasons  for  finding  herself  on  the  shore  of  Table 
Bay  in  uniform,  jumped  up,  and  walked  along  the 
foreshore  sea  wall  until  she  arrived  near  the  Ex- 
change. Unfortunately  a  seafaring  man  named 
FIndley  happened  to  be  riding  up  to  the  Heeren- 
gracht  slightly  ahead  of  Georglana,  on  an  early 
morning  errand  into  the  country.  Passing  the  ki- 
osque,  he  pulled  up  his  pony,  read  the  Placard, 
whistled,  and  trotted  off,  thinking  someone  had  hit 
upon  a  pretty  filthy  explanation  of  the  Governor's 


CAPE  CURREY  157 

character;  also,  he  thought,  what  a  pleasant  morning 
greeting  it  would  be  to  the  town  that  was  beginning 
to  toss  aside  bedclothes  and  welcome  the  morning 
with  the  yawns  of  southern  people  who  have  slept 
too  long  and  too  heavily.  No  doubt  the  Imaginings 
of  Skipper  Findley  would  have  proved  true,  but  that 
tired  and  horrified  Georgiana,  bravely  defying  recog- 
nition, w^alked  up  to  the  kiosque  two  minutes  later, 
snatched  down  the  offending  paper,  and  was  rush- 
ing up  Grave  Street  and  across  to  the  little  garden 
door,  congratulating  herself  on  having  met  no  soul 
or  any  obstacle  to  stop  her  this  time.  Georgiana 
reckoned  rashly,  for  Findley  was  not  the  man  to 
hold  his  tongue  off  a  spicy  bit  of  gossip,  and 
"  Davie  "  was  too  good  a  citizen  not  to  recognize 
the  little  Surgeon  in  the  moonlight.  So  here  were 
two  witnesses;  damning  enough  evidence  as  it  proved 
later. 

In  the  meantime  she  was  up  In  her  own  room 
again,  struggling  out  of  the  borrowed  uniform, 
Alctta  kissing  and  comforting  —  to  that  point  of 
hindrance  which  seems  a  trap  all  nice  women  fall 
into  from  sheer  kindness  of  heart,  and  a  slice  of 
pride  too  —  over  the  return  of  a  hero,  and  goodness 
knows,  Georgiana  looked  a  fetching  little  mannlkln. 
They  talked  until  six  o'clock,  Georgiana  telling  of 
the  doings  of  the  night,  and  gloating  over  the  suc- 
cess of  It  all,  when  she  suddenly  remembered  the 


158  CAPE  CURREY 

uniform,  and  sent  Aletta  downstairs  to  the  quarters 
where  the  men  servants  collected  the  various  uni- 
forms and  clothes,  ready  for  the  brushing  and  clean- 
ing of  the  next  morning.  "  They  will  think  Dr. 
James  has  left  his  things  there  overnight,"  said  Miss 
Somerset,  "  and  Dr.  James  will  think  that  Brady 
has  been  in  to  fetch  them  early:  things  will  go 
smoothly,  I  feel  sure." 

"  My  love,  now  you  must  go  to  sleep."  Aletta 
having  returned  from  the  errand,  found  Georgiana 
tucked  up  in  a  forlorn  looking  little  heap  of  human- 
ity, in  the  low  window  seat,  clad  in  one  garment  with 
the  small  amount  of  lace  that  was  considered  suffi- 
cient trimming  for  respectable  underwear  in  1820 
days. 

Outside,  the  summer  sun  flooded  the  garden;  the 
small,  brilliant  yellow  and  pink  blossoms  of  the 
prickly  pear  plant  opened  wide  and  wider  their  cup- 
like petals,  rays  of  sunlight  caught  and  held  in  the 
entanglement  of  the  fleshy  thorned  leaves;  low  beds 
of  crimson  and  magenta  mesembreanthemum  blazed 
so  vividly  that  they  seemed  myriads  of  tiny,  gorge- 
ous honeybirds  caught  in  nets,  and  held  to  the  earth : 
in  the  white  pond  below  the  window,  deep  blue  lo- 
tus lilies  were  already  enticing  the  bees  and  butter- 
flies by  their  scented  breath  to  flutter  and  flutter, 
low,  over  the  water. 

Aletta  leaned  out  and  caught  long  sprays  of  hon- 


CAPE  CURREY  159 

eysuckle  and  Cape  jasmine.  "  Smell!  " —  she  drew 
them  towards  Georgiana  — "  scents  like  that  make 
me  mad,  Georgle.  They  would  drive  me  to  do 
many  things.  What  is  there  in  us  so  buried  that 
only  such  scent  makes  us  forget  to  fear  it; — Oh  I 
I  am  frightened  of  myself  sometimes;  —  smell, 
Georgie !  " 

Aletta  held  the  flowers  to  her  and  as  though  mes- 
merized by  their  scent,  began  upbraiding  herself. 

"  There  are  fifty  Mes  —  all  me  and  yet  differing: 
there  Is  a  me,  Georgie,  a  me  that  is  cruel,  that  would 
hurt  if  it  could;  a  me,  that  though  it  may  love,  yet 
finds  pleasure  in  seeing  misfortune  to  the  person  I 
love.  Do  you  believe  that,  Georgie?  You  know 
I  love  you,  love  you  —  love  you,  and  yet,  hidden 
away  there  is  a  me  who  would  be  almost  glad  to 
know  that  someone  had  said  ill  of  you.  Oh!  my 
dear,  my  dear  I  One  day,  one  day  something  will 
happen  —  all  these  selves  will  be  too  strong  for 
me:  even  now  I  disobey  Tante  Petronelle,  and  on 
occasions  I  find  myself  thinking  that  Oom  Michael 
speaks  nonsense.  I  hate  Dirk,  yet  I  like  him  to  love 
me.  There  —  there  —  I  am  like  a  naked  woman 
now,  I  have  taken  off  all  the  coverings  from  my- 
self. Look  at  me,  Georgie,  look:  but  say  you  still 
love  me." 

Strange  girl!  She  stood  tall  and  straight,  the 
sharp  lines  of  her  lithe  body  swathed  in  the  redness 


i6o  CAPE  CURREY 

of  Georglana's  dressing  gown,  outlined  sharply 
against  the  whiteness  of  the  wall;  the  white  jasmine 
flowers  on  their  long  green  trailing  stems  massed 
In  her  arms. 

Georgiana  seemed  to  listen  to  her  friend's  con- 
fession. 

"  We  naturally  find  ourselves  Interesting,"  she 
said,  a  little  abruptly,  as  though  In  answer  to  an  un- 
spoken challenge. 

Then  she  rose  Impatiently  and  pushed  aside  the 
flowers. 

"  Quick,  Aletta,  we  will  ride:  we  will  ride  along 
the  sands,  and  see  the  boats  come  In,  without  White- 
foote  or  Penderby."     She  rang  for  her  maid. 

Like  flocks  of  birds,  low  flying  across  the  blue 
water,  the  fishing  boats  sailed  Into  Table  Bay; 
Georglana's  nostrils  distended  with  the  faint  whiffs 
of  salt  crisp  air,  the  freshness  of  the  morning  was 
not  to  be  wasted  on  heavily-scented  flowers  and  the 
dark  memories  of  her  sleepless  night. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

An  Elderly  Gentleman  Is  Forced  to  Fight  a  Duel 
WITH  His  Own  Conscience 

Mr.  Commissioner  John  BIgge  bowed,  and  shut 
the  heavy  teak  door  behind  him,  leaving  Miss  Som- 
erset to  face  the  discomforting  knowledge  of  hav- 
ing engaged  herself  to  an  elderly  English  gentleman 
of  good  manners  and  uncompromising  appearance, 
having  more  than  suspicious  tendencies  to  gout  and 
a  pronounced  faiblesse  of  temper  and  liver.  Miss 
Somerset  was  piqued  —  a  reason  why  many  people 
with  gouty  tendencies  are  married.  The  Commis- 
sion was  taking  its  slow  dignified  time  over  the  scan- 
dals. 

Some  months  had  elapsed  since  that  first  meeting, 
when  clever  Miss  Somerset  had  flung  herself  into 
the  arms  of  the  First  Commissioner. 

The  interview  had  taken  place  in  the  long  gallery 
of  the  Castle,  where  Georgiana  had  ridden  to  take 
tea  in  Barry's  Quarters  —  tea  In  honor  of  Mr.  BIgge 
—  where  she  had  smiled  cherubically  into  the  dry 
serious  face  of  John  BIgge,  and  held  her  twisted 
feature  higher  than  any  nose  had  a  right  to  go. 

When  Barry  had  left  for  the  hospital  at  Salt 
River,  she  had  volunteered  to  show  BIgge  the  Castle 

i6i 


i62  CAPE  CURREY 

ramparts;  the  old  Dutch  cannon,  the  tennis-court 
below,  the  dungeons,  the  queer  ancient  Dutch  plan 
of  the  Fortress  that  guarded  the  tavern  of  the  Seas; 
the  stucco  plan  designed  from  the  plans  of  Vauban's 
fortresses  and  placed  in  the  dome  ceiling  of  the  old 
Sea  entrance :  she  stood  in  the  dark  portico  and  told 
him  how  once  the  waves  of  Table  Bay  sprayed  the 
old  Sea  door  —  and  suddenly  Bigge  knew  that  he 
was  a  man;  forgotten  his  liver,  and  the  gout,  and 
the  scandal  set  before  the  Commission :  he  saw  slim, 
fair  Georgiana,  her  white  soft  arm,  all  angles  of 
youngness,  pointing  to  the  old  roof,  and  he  gulped; 
which  unromantic  performance  many  better  men 
have  resorted  to  in  times  of  need. 

But  when  they  came  to  the  long,  low  room  where 
Lady  Anne  Barnard  had  lived  and  loved  and  writ- 
ten romance  into  her  middle-aged  life,  Georgiana 
waxed  eloquent  over  this  clever  woman  who  had 
written  songs,  held  her  London  salon,  loved,  too 
well,  Prime  Minister  Melville  —  for  whose  sake  she 
married  young  Barnard  and  exiled  herself  at  the 
Cape.  From  there  she  wrote  fascinating  clever, 
spirituelle  letters  to  Melville,  and,  added  Georgiana, 
"  he  had  the  kindness  to  tie  them  up  with  blue  rib- 
bons (perhaps  he  had  a  tendresse  for  the  dear 
thing).  How  sad  a  thing  when  a  woman  loves! 
I  have  it  that  these  letters  would  cause  much  scandal 
were  the  ribbons  untied." 


CAPE  CURREY  163 

Her  'face  betrayed  such  feeling  that  Mr.  Bigge 
gulped  in  vain,  and  fell  on  his  knees  and  declared 
himself,  as  Georgiana  put  it  later  to  Aletta;  a  pro- 
saic proceeding  it  seemed.  Poor  Bigge  was  all 
hoarse  and  stammering,  in  a  state  to  crush  her  all 
to  pieces,  as  It  takes  men  who  have  passed  the  perfect 
age  of  forty:  but  he  flattered  himself  he  was  be- 
having like  a  gentleman:  he  undoubtedly  was  — 
which  also  shows  how  very  little  he  understood 
women,  and  how  unnecessarily  he  taxed  himself. 
And  all  because  a  flouting  little  popinjay  behaved 
like  an  over-animated  stone  image,  the  Honorable 
Georgiana  Somerset  gave  the  Commissioner  her  slim 
little  hand  and  promised  to  be  his  wife  after  the 
Commission  had  terminated.  Strange  to  say,  she 
meant  to  keep  her  word.  Several  ends  were  gained ; 
the  Governor's  position  would  be  vindicated;  Barry, 
she  hoped,  regretful,  and  no  more  coping  with  her 
new  ladyship.  Aletta  would  marry  Dirk,  etc.,  etc.; 
all  the  upstart  logical  reasons  that  unbalance  the 
scales,  and  pour  gold  Into  the  wrong  coffer. 

John  Bigge,  when  he  left  Georgiana,  started  a 
fearsome  walk  across  the  sand  dunes  with  his  busy 
conscience  as  a  companion  du  voyage.  It  started 
to  upbraid  him  the  moment  he  heard  big  Cloete's 
sword  clatter  and  rattle  over  the  paved  cobbled 
stone  court-yard;  it  scolded  him  as  he  passed  the 
Fort  Knocke,  where  pale  Mr.  Whitefoote,  with  an 


i64  CAPE  CURREY 

orderly,  rode  past  on  a  message  from  Lord  Charles; 
it  cursed  him,  as  he  waded  through  the  sandy  swamp 
behind  the  military  hospital,  where  the  little  Sur- 
geon waved  him  a  handful  of  bandages  from  an  open 
window  —  among  the  dunes  it  jeered  at  him  for  a 
fool  —  an  old  fool !  Conscience  minces  no  words : 
it  forced  him  to  behold  the  crisp  strong  little  blue 
waves,  and  fear  what  it  was  to  be  young  and  strong 
and  clean;  it  made  him  look  towards  the  Blue  Moun- 
tains, and  know  that  she  would  skip  like  the  uncom- 
monly gay  little  hills  of  Solomon;  that  he  would  have 
to  wait  below ;  it  made  him  remember  with  stinging 
politeness  every  time  in  his  life  he  had  had  from 
women  the  gift  he  begged  from  this  girl;  it  drew 
for  his  inspection  a  vivid  little  picture  of  how  the 
news  would  be  told  to  a  lady  who  had  found  house- 
keeping for  three  people  as  economical  as  for  two 
—  the  large  jovial  lady  who  was  so  much  a  habit, 
that  it  came  as  a  shock  to  remember  she  should  have 
to  be  regarded  as  a  conscientious  objection. 

Georgiana,  alone  in  Anne  Barnard's  room,  re- 
viewed the  situation. 

To  discover  that  Aletta's  warnings  were  more  fire 
than  smoke  had  not  stunned  her  as  they  might  have 
another  woman.  To  her,  horror  and  insult  meant 
action:  she  had  acted,  and  there  remained  but  the 
hope  that  this  would  end  the  affair.  Then  she  com- 
menced the  train  of  thought  brought  into  being  by 


CAPE  CURREY  165 

Aletta's  second  letter.  If  there  was  some  mystery 
attached  to  Barry,  and  if  he  guarded  some  secret  be- 
hind the  walls  of  the  old  house  on  the  mountain, 
what  was  it  to  her?  now  indeed,  more  than  ever, 
what  to  her?  She  would  soon  marry  Bigge,  would 
sail  with  him  away  from  this  Cape  of  Storms  and 
worries :  what  was  it  to  her  if  Penderby,  Whitefoote, 
and  Cloete  cared!  what  if  they  gossiped  at  Orange- 
zicht.  She  could  hear  Tante  Petronelle,  "  My  dear 
Heaven!  the  old  Commissioner  I  ":  she  saw  herself 
and  her  action  discussed  from  one  end  of  the  Penin- 
sula to  the  other. 

*'  Let  me  see,"  said  Georgiana,  "  did  I  marry 
Josias  what  would  they  say?  'What!  marry  a 
Dutchman !  Only  one  English  woman  has  been 
brave  enough  to  do  that !  '  Marry  Whitefoote ! 
Ugh!  dear  little  pale  bunny  man!  He  could  not 
even  lift  me.  Tante  Petronelle  would  say,  '  Hie 
Georgiana!  not  the  witbokje!  '  Marry  Penderby? 
to  have  one's  self  corrected  from  morning  to  night, 
attention  drawn  to  a  pretty  point  of  the  imagination, 
careful  application  of  the  right  this,  to  the  right 
that  —  oh  no!  No!  No!  Quelle  galere  !  James 
Barry?  Charles  says  Dr.  James  has  had  a  terrible 
sadness  in  his  life  which  he  will  never  forget.  I 
suppose  there  are  some  men  who  do  not  forget  — 
until  they  find  the  woman  who  can  help  them  to  do 
so.     But  I  fear  Dr.  James  does  not  even  love  fat 


1 66  CAPE  CURREY 

Psyche !  and  then,  if  those  stories  which  Aletta  tells 
me  are  true  ?  I  cannot  begin  to  see  why  it  happens 
that  Papa  so  seldom  misses  an  opportunity  of  placing 
Doctor  James  on  a  species  of  pedestal." 

Meanwhile  in  the  Castle  court-yard  was  hurried 
commotion.  The  commotion  of  law  and  order  un- 
fortunately makes  far  more  disturbance  in  its  initial 
stages  than  does  the  original  crime. 

Georgiana  hurried  to  the  window.  A  guard  of 
soldiers,  around  an  outraged  man,  who  called 
heaven  and  hell  to  witness  to  his  just  indignation. 
The  group  hurried  clattering  and  noisy  over  the 
cobbled  stone  court,  through  the  low  Dutch  arch 
doorway,  through  to  the  inner  court-yard. 

Georgiana  tied  on  her  bonnet  and  ran  down  the 
stairs  on  to  the  round  steps,  which  lead  to  the  door 
of  Lady  Anne's  rooms.  There  she  found  Colonel 
Bell. 

*' What  is  it,  sir?" 

"  They  have  arrested  Edwards  who  has  been 
writing  sedition  for  weeks,  and  they  now  suspect 
him  of  being  author  of  various  placards  and  letters 
He  was  found  hiding  in  a  house  at  Wynberg.  The 
trouble  is  that  he  accuses  Barry  of  hanging  up  the 
placards  himself,  at  two  o'clock  last  night;  and  other 
evidence,  from  two  men  who  had  brought  in  stuff 
for  the  early  market,  goes  to  show  that  Dr.  James 
was  seen  outside  the  Exchange  at  three  o'clock  this 


CAPE  CURREY  167 

morning.  The  placard  was  only  seen  by  one  Find- 
ley  at  half  past  five  o'clock  and  no  one  can  find  out 
who  took  it  down.  The  whole  town  is  talking  of 
it;  Findley  swears  he  read  it;  though  why  one  should 
take  the  word  of  one  man,  I  cannot  for  the  hfe  of 
me  understand." 

Michael  Van  Breda  came  up.  "  Ah,  Miss 
Georgie,  so  you  keep  Aletta  by  you  last  night;  die 
Frau  vas  worry  till  die  message  vas  come." 

Another  clatter  through  the  big  archway  her- 
alded the  arrival  of  the  Governor,  the  Fiscal  and 
Josias  Cloete.     Lord  Charles  looked  worried. 

"  Bell,  the  Press  people  are  worrying  me  for  ad- 
mittance and  detail  about  the  arrest,  and  I  hear 
from  the  Fiscal  here  that  the  latest  idea  is  that  the 
dem  thing  was  hung  up  by  Barry,  to  give  us  an  op- 
portunity for  arresting  Edwards.  God  —  the  foul- 
mouthed  beasts !  —  anyhow,  now  I  shall  oiier  a  re- 
ward to  find  out  something  more  definite  about  it." 
He  caught  sight  of  his  daughter  standing  white  and 
still  among  the  little  group.  *'  Georgiana,  Cloete 
will  see  you  home.     I  thought  you  were  with  Bigge." 

"I  was.  Sir,  but  Mr.  Bigge  has  —  gone;"  she 
hesitated  because  the  explanation  seemed  feeble. 
Her  disappointment  seemed  too  great  to  be  borne; 
that  in  spite  of  her  risks  and  her  terrors  she  had  not 
succeeded;  that  a  single  wretched  creature  should 
have  seen  this  thing  —  the  Lord  only  knew  whether 


1 68  CAPE  CURREY 

there  would  not  be  found  others  who  had  seen  it 
also.  Her  miserable  failure !  when,  from  fatigue 
and  excitement,  she  had  fallen  asleep  on  the  sands! 
Should  she  tell?  It  would  exonerate  Barry,  but 
who  in  Cape  Town  would  believe  her  story?  She 
could  tell  what  Aletta  had  heard  in  the  little  house 
on  the  shore,  it  would  not  matter  now  —  now  that 
she  had  failed;  now  that  it  was  all  being  discussed 
and  given  to  the  public  —  yes  — like  Dr.  James' 
bone,  that  he  was  always  speaking  of;  the  bone  flung 
to  the  dogs,  to  be  torn  and  worried  and  crunched 
and  fought  over.  Yes,  she  would  tell  Charles  every- 
thing —  to-night.  These  thoughts  passed  through 
her  mind  as  the  Governor  was  speaking,  and  ac- 
counted for  her  reply. 

But  her  plans  suffered  another  shock  —  from  the 
Governor. 

"  By  the  way,  Georgie,  things  are  in  such  a  pretty 
pickle  that  I  have  made  arrangements  and  given  or- 
ders that  her  Ladyship,  and  you,  with  Mrs.  Craw- 
ford, will  leave  to-day  for  Worcester  for  a  few  days, 
till  things  are  settled.  Now  I  must  see  to  many 
things.     Good-by,  Georgie  dear." 

As  he  stooped  to  kiss  her,  she  whispered:  "  Mr. 
Bigge  has  something  to  tell  you,  Sir;  but  do  not  reply 
until  I  return  —  please.  Papa  —  dear  Papa  !  " 

There  was  no  time  for  more. 


CAPE  CURREY  169 

'*  A  cab  would  be  best,  I  fancy,"  said  Joslas,  as 
they  left  the  Castle.  "  The  streets  are  full  of 
gossipers."  Fie  hailed  a  broken  down  cabriolet,  Its 
white  hood  and  brilliant  red  wheels  not  less  gay 
than  the  costume  of  Its  Malay  driver,  In  green  and 
crimson  garments. 

The  space  In  the  cab  seemed  very  small  when 
long  Joslas  had  Installed  himself;  Georglana  ap- 
peared tinier  than  ever. 

"How  big  you  are!  "  she  murmured,  and  then 
very  rapidly  began  asking  multitudinous  questions 
about  the  queer  business  of  the  arrest  of  Edwards, 
because  of  the  fear  that  her  first  remark  had  led 
Joslas  to  appreciate  too  much  the  narrowness  of  the 
situation;  but  with  as  much  suddenness  as  a  Dutch- 
man can  put  Into  what  he  has  deliberated  on  for 
months  —  Joslas  kissed  her,  full  on  the  mouth. 
Georglana's  spine  shrank  to  one  Inch  of  marrow,  and 
her  arms  seemed  possessed  of  a  desire  to  wind  them- 
selves around  Joslas'  neck  (she  was  afraid  later 
that  they  had)  and  her  lips  trembled,  and  she  longed 
that  the  kiss  should  last :  the  queer  strength  of  Joslas' 
bristly  whiskers  seemed  to  sting  her  into  such  daring- 
ness.  It  was  only  because  she  opened  her  eyes  and 
realized  that  her  face  was  very  close  to  a  face  long 
familiar  with  a  certain  amount  of  distance  between 
them,  that  she  managed  to  whisper  a  half  truth  to 


170  CAPE  CURREY 

save  further  explanations,  "  I  have  promised  to 
marry  Mr.  Bigge  and  I  am  afraid  you  must  not 
kiss  me." 

"  That's  me  demmed  bad  luck,"  said  Josias.  And 
he  kissed  her  again.  So  different  to  Mr.  Bigge's 
kisses ! 

Then  It  was  she  knew  she  did  not  care  for  either 
of  them.  Josias  led  her  weeping  from  the  cab  to 
her  rooms,  where  she  found  her  maid  had  received 
orders  to  pack  her  trunks. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Letters  of  Importance  Are  Read  by  Three  Ladies  in 

A  Farm  Orchard;  and  of  What  a  Fortunate 

Thing  It  Is,  That  Women's  Arms  Are  Kind 

The  veld  round  the  Worcester  country  house 
seemed  an  Eastern  carpet,  whereon  genii  and  lavish- 
handed  magicians  had  scattered  all  the  flowers  of  the 
earth.  Spring  had  been  late;  and  now,  even  In 
October,  orange  and  gold  gleamed  over  the  flat 
plain,  hedged  by  the  perpetually  rose-pink  Worces- 
ter mountains.  The  town  had  lately  sprung  up  In 
whitewashed,  thatched  or  flat-roofed  houses,  round 
the  tall-spired  Dutch  church  standing  on  the  edge  of 
a  green,  whose  four  sides  were  lined  by  a  double 
row  of  straight  gum  trees  tapering  heavenwards, 
in  competition  with  the  spire.  There  was  a  deal 
of  Holland  suggested  in  this  Dutch  village,  and  It 
seemed  to  contain  the  peculiar  policy  of  the  Cape 
in  its  English  name  of  Worcester:  It  started  with 
a  Dutch  Farm,  a  Dutch  Church;  then  came  Lord 
Charles,  saw  the  land,  found  it  good,  shot  good 
game,  came  again,  bought  a  house  and  called  the 
village  In  embryo,  after  one  of  his  brother's  titles, 
Worcester.     Two  days'  journey  from  Cape  Town, 


172  CAPE  CURREY 

it  meant  a  certain  amount  of  respite  from  the  up- 
heavals taking  place  In  the  capital. 

Lady  Charles  and  her  house  party  had  been  in 
this  rural  Isolation  for  two  weeks  when  a  courier 
brought  the  news.  Letters  from  Lord  Charles, 
letters  for  Georglana  from  Aletta  and  John  Bigge, 
letters  for  Mrs.  Crawford  from  her  husband,  who, 
taking  up  almost  a  permanent  position  on  the  long 
green  benches  of  the  Society  House,  saw  and  heard 
a  great  deal  of  the  game. 

"  The  unpleasant  affair  goes  on,  Belinda  my  love; 
the  Free  Press  have  been  over  free  and  we  have 
had  a  scene  on  the  Parade  Ground,  as  Greig  got 
stuff  published  dealing  with  the  case  and  distributed 
It,  though  the  Governor  had  got  Truter  to  declare 
all  evidence  as  sub-judlce.  Bishop  Burnett  Is  stuffing 
the  Home  Government  like  prize  Michaelmas  geese, 
and  the  Governor  would  do  well  to  go  home  and 
give  his  own  evidence  to  the  Lords.  There  are 
rumors,  that  to  be  better  supported,  Bigge  is  to  be 
for  ever  placed  In  the  Somerset  fold  as  son-in-law. 
I  doubt  whether  his  feet  will  carry  him  to  a  church 
or  his  liver  allow  of  further  proceedings. 

"  If  Somerset  goes,  sport  goes  with  him,  and  with 
that  high  art,  my  love,  goes  our  bread  and  butter. 
This  brings  me  to  a  domestic  detail,  namely  that 
Jane  —  being  now  near  fifteen  It  appears  —  has  been 
asked  In  marriage  by  a  Van  der  Bijl:  I  cannot  for 


CAPE  CURREY  173 

the  life  of  me  remember  which  one,  they  are  all 
alike  as  two  peas.  He  tells  me  he  has  two  thousand 
vine  sticks;  which  it  seems  I  should  be  satisfied  is 
a  goodly  inheritance.  I  fancy  you  will  be  pleased 
that  I  have  consented.  For  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot 
think  which  of  Jane's  angles  has  raised  this  pas- 
sion.  .   .   ." 

Mrs.  Crawford's  relief  that  any  man  should  think 
Jane  comely  was  slightly  overshadowed  by  the  fact 
that  her  daughter  was  to  be  the  second  English- 
woman on  record  to  marry  a  Cape  Dutchman.  But 
maternal  pride  forced  some  sort  of  desire  to  impart 
the  news.  She  found  Georgiana  In  the  orchard, 
which,  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  grounds,  looked 
straight  out  from  plum  and  pear  trees  still  in  blos- 
som, on  to  the  golden  veld  and  the  big  blue  vleis 
wherein  the  rose  mountains  were  mirrored.  Georgi- 
ana had  collected  three  black  babies,  hatted  them  in 
minute  red  fezes,  and  left  the  rest  to  nature:  these 
babies  sat  on  the  orchard  earth,  and  Georgiana  was 
feeding  them  with  enormous  white  sweets,  the  shape 
and  color  and  design  of  poached  eggs. 

"  My  dear,  you  only  lack  an  Italian  organ,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Crawford,  disturbing  the  ambrosial 
feast. 

"Belinda,  do  not  interrupt;  I  am  acclimatizing 
myself;  I  suppose  one  must  have  at  least  three  chil- 
dren if  one  marries,  and  I  have  just  received  a  let- 


174  CAPE  CURREY 

ter  which  seems  to  mean  that  I  have  engaged  my- 
self. Belinda,  what  a  pity  one  cannot  accomplish 
little  black  creatures  like  these  —  look  at  their  plump 
shiny  bodies  and  their  beady  shining  eyes  and  their 
hair  I  Oh,  my  love,  observe  the  hair !  Five  little 
knobbles  of  tight  crispness  to  each  head;  like  the 
veld  bushes  on  the  tiniest  kopjes  — "  she  snatched  off 
a  fez  as  she  spoke.  "  And  I  am  making  them  chains 
of  blue  beads,  and  dear  odd  little  sporrans  of  red 
beads;  oh!  the  darlings!  oh  la!  it's  going  to  be  ill! 
Oh,  look  after  it  Belinda,  love.  See  to  it  —  oh, 
how  monstrous!  " 

She  fled  from  the  sight  to  the  other  end  of  the 
orchard,  calling  out  questions  and  instructions,  while 
the  mother  of  the  recalcitrant  nuns  supplied  the  re- 
quired aid.  Presently,  a  grinning  Hottentot  slave 
woman  appeared,  and  claimed  the  three  black  babies 
as  her  own,  so  that  Mrs.  Crawford  joined  Georgiana 
whom  she  found  studying  the  small  neat  handwrit- 
ing of  Mr.  Commissioner  John  Thomas  Bigge. 

"  And  everything  seems  to  go  in  threes,"  she 
groaned,  as  she  laid  out  on  the  grass  beside  her, 
three  locks  of  fair  hair,  each  tied  with  blue  ribbons. 
"  Look,  Belinda,"  touching  each  as  she  spoke, 
*'  Cloete,  Penderby,  and  Whitefoote !  Papa  must 
have  announced  the  engagement  —  horrid  Papa ! 
I  begged  him  to  wait !     Ah !  I  see  ...  a  rumor !  " 

*'  Aletta    tells    me    Mijnfrau    exclaimed    '  Alle- 


CAPE  CURREY  175 

macht !  Fool  toch !  '  I  am  so  relieved  she  kept  to 
vague  expressions,  I  was  very  nervous  about  Tante 
Petronelle's  verdict;  but,  my  love,  you  appear  too 
radiantly  joyful  for  me  to  believe  any  catastrophe 
is  the  cause." 

"  Jane  has  a  lover,"  gasped  Belinda. 

Georglana  shrieked  and  jumped  to  her  feet: 
"  Jane  —  a  lover?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  cannot  see  why  you  should  betray 
such  astonishment,  my  love;"  Mrs.  Crawford  had 
nearly  fainted  with  surprised  emotion. 

"  But  I  am  so  pleased,  and  so  (oh,  so  very  much 
so)  surprised.  Why,  Jane  Is  so  young!  Who  Is 
the  suitor?  " 

"A  Van  der  BIjl;"  Mrs.  Crawford  put  all  the 
aplomb  and  bravery  she  could  Into  the  reply. 

"  Oh,  how  Interesting !  How  nice  !  "  She  meant 
to  say  "Goody!  A  Cape  Dutchman!  how  aston- 
ishing! "  and  thought  better  of  it. 

"  Georgle,  try  as  I  may,  I  cannot  see  Jane  In  a 
white  veil  and  orange-blossoms";  and  this  original 
mother,  whose  maternal  affection  was  forever  at 
war  with  her  sense  of  humor,  sat  down  beside  Miss 
Somerset  and  had  a  "  conniption  "  according  to  Miss 
Somerset  —  giggle.  In  plain  English. 

(Can't  you  see  why  she  couldn't  have  married 
Penderby,  the  editor?) 

Lady  Charles,  in  a  trailing  cotton  riding  habit, 


176  CAPE  CURREY 

carrying  sheaves  of  letters  came  to  share  the  news. 
*'  Most  delighted,"  she  smiled  as  Mrs.  Belinda 
told  her  of  Jane.  "  My  poor  Excellency  writes  a 
letter,  full  of  consternation;  he  and  Mr.  BIgge  and 
Dr.  James  are  riding  out  to-morrow  or  the  next  day. 
Listen  to  what  he  has  to  say  on  the  situation: 

"...  to  have  been  accused  of  Bribery  and  corruption  and 
to  have  suffered  the  indignity  of  a  Commission  to  inquire  into 
the  state  of  one's  policy,  are  things,  my  dear  child,  that  have 
been  monstrous  and  sufficient  cause  for  resignation,  had  not 
the  madness  of  construction  seized  me  in  such  toils,  that  I 
feel  we  shall  see  this  thing  through  or  die  with  the  doing. 
Edwards  has  been  convicted  of  libel,  and  sentenced  to  seven 
years,  and  I  have  it  in  private  information  that  he  has  had 
practice  In  this  metier  before.  In  his  cell  were  found 
draughts  of  letters  in  the  handwriting  of  that  damn  inquisitor 
and  blackmailer,  B.B.,  who,  after  receiving  Colebrooke  at 
Uitenhague,  took  up  his  quarters  here  —  no  doubt  to  watch 
proceedings.  This  scandal  will  be  a  turning  point  in  any 
doubts  the  Commissioners  may  have  entertained  as  to  the 
Establishment  at  Grahamstown.  (That  may  be  the  reason 
I  am  accused  of  writing  the  thing  myself!)  Bathurst  tells 
me  B.  B.  reported  his  entire  complaints  re  Hart's  manage- 
ment of  the  Government  farm  at  Grahamstown,  accusing 
Hart  —  which  means  accusing  me  —  of  running  the  Somer- 
set farm  as  a  Private  Monopoly!  and  fleecing  the  poor  settler. 
I  saw  Walter  Bentinck  yesterday.  Of  course  the  real  blame 
lies  with  the  Home  Government,  and  the  non-success  of  the 
settlers  to  supply  themselves,  let  alone  the  Cavalry  stationed 
there;  this  fact  tempered  with  others,  I  have  dispatched  to 
Bathurst,  and  as  no  doubt  B.  B.  has  also  forwarded  some 


CAPE  CURREY  177 

further  accounts  of  my  scandalous  transactions  and  horse 
dealing,  England  may  begin  to  realize  that  Philanthropic 
colonizing  is  no  fool  game. 

"  Inform  Georgie  that  Bigge's  proposals  are  kept  as  a  secret 
in  the  immediate  circle. 

"  We  have  offered  between  us,  Government,  Barry  and  I, 
20,000  rix  dollars,  as  reward  for  the  further  knowledge  of 
the  perpetrator  of  the  placards  —  but  as  I  have  no  doubt  in 
my  mind,  that  one  has  got  a  light  sentence  for  another  offence 

—  sedition  —  and  the  other  instigator  has  got  bigger  fish  to 
fry,  and  a  spite  which  he  would  not  sell  for  much  gold,  I  am 
in  no  doubt  but  that  no  one  will  claim  the  reward.  The 
trouble  lies  with  the  evidence  given  by  a  farmer  and  a  friend, 
who  I  do  not  question  was  B.  B.,  that  Barry  was  seen  hang- 
ing round  the  Kiosque  on  the  night  before  Findley  read  it, 
and  that  others  swear  he  was  seen  tearing  off  the  damn  filth 
soon  after  Findley  rode  off.  Various  public  bodies  have 
sent  addresses  of  respect  and  loyalty  which  have  touched  me 

—  not  more  deeply  than  they  should,  for  I  am  damn  sick, 
my  dear,  of  this  business,  and  that  you  should  be  subjected  to 
such  bad  taste.  Still,  if  all  the  public  men,  who  have  had 
lampoons  made  in  their  honor  —  had  died  with  shame,  there 
would  be  sad  to  do  get  together  any  kind  of  Government  in 
England.  .  .  .  We  come  for  some  rest  and  clean  veld  air  to- 
morrow, and  your  kind  arms,  my  lady,  I  pray. 

•'  C.  S." 

"  The  beasts,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford,  wiping  her 
eyes. 

"  Dr.  James  sends  six  words."  Lady  Charles 
read  them  aloud:  "God  save  us  all,  my  lady." 
"  Then  I  have  a  report  printed  by  the  Free  Press." 


178  CAPE  CURREY 

She  passed  the  slip  to  Georgiana,  who  remarked: 

"  How  odd  a  thing  that  so  many  people,  and  or- 
ganizations, seeking  freedom,  should  grasp  at  Scan- 
dal as  their  chief  stepping  stone.  I  have  a  sincere 
admiration  for  Mr.  Greig  and  Mr.  Falrbairn,  though 
I  own  Mr.  Pringle  has  the  affliction  of  only  finding 
freedom  In  excess  of  liberty";  she  threw  herself 
on  her  back,  arms  entwined  under  her  head,  which 
was  covered  with  a  little  bright  blue  sun-bonnet 
or  cap,  such  as  the  Dutchwomen  wore  on  the 
farms: 

"  Oh,  thank  Heaven,  we  have  kind  arms!  Poor 
things  —  poor  dear  worried  things!  " 

*'  Listen  to  the  sentimental  Madame  Commlsslon- 
ere,"  laughed  Lady  Charles.  "  Being  more  prac- 
tical myself,  I  shall  recommend  an  Immediate  ex- 
cursion to  the  warm  springs  of  Caledon,  to  help  rid 
my  poor  Governor  of  his  bile.  So  bad  for  his  gout, 
all  this  commotion!  I  wish  he  would  resign,  and 
then  I  should  get  another  look  at  a  decent  fence." 
She  stretched  out  her  arms  as  she  spoke  and,  with 
her  head  back  and  her  nostrils  quivering,  looked  like 
some  young  hunter  eager  under  restraint.  '^  Je 
m^ennuie  —  I  suppose.  Not  having  Georgle's  im- 
agination; neither  do  I  fancy  have  I  the  consolation 
of  her  sentimental  raptures." 

Georgiana  smoothed  the  crumpled  lavender  of 
her  muslin  gown;   a  little  ironical  smile  hovered 


CAPE  CURREY  179 

eluslvely  about  her  mouth;  then  she  murmured,  quite 
softly,  as  though  to  herself: 

'*  Have  I  a  friend?  (look  round  and  spy) 
So  fond,  so  prepossessed  as  I." 

Both  women  heard  her.  Mrs.  Crawford  glanced 
up  at  Lady  Charles.  This  lady,  not  lacking  in  wit, 
caught  the  words  and  something  of  their  meaning. 

"  Georgiana  has  now  a  habit  of  rhyming  on  every 
occasion,  but  I  consider  her  latest " 

"Not  mine, —  please,  not  mine.  One  of  Mr. 
Gay's  fables.  Shall  I  continue?  "  broke  in  Georgi- 
ana slyly,  ''  as  it  appears  to  interest  you.  The  fable 
is  entitled: 

"  '  The  Countryman  and  Jupiter,' 
and  has  a  dedication  — '  To  Myself.'  " 

"  It  is  full  of  wit,  and  not " 

*'  Mrs.  Crawford  may  care  to  listen.  For  my- 
self, I  find  the  weather  too  warm  and  shall  go  back 
to  the  cool  hall,"  interrupted  Lady  Charles;  and  col- 
lecting her  letters  and  riding  whip,  she  gathered  up 
her  habit  and  turned  towards  the  house,  whose  green 
rounded  shutters  could  be  seen  from  the  orchard. 

"  Georgiana,  you  naughty  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Craw- 
ford. 

*'  I  allow  myself  these  harmless  little  pleasures 
sometimes;"  Georgiana's  eyes  twinkled.  "Her 
ladyship    is    prepossessed,    there's    no    denying    it. 


i8o  CAPE  CURREY 

Poor  dear  Mamma  would  never  have  really  ap- 
proved of  my  seeing  too  much  of  her  —  but  she  is 
pretty;  and  His  Excellency  deserved  prettiness. 
One  would  not  object  to  marrying  anyone  vastly 
older  than  one's  self,  not  if  he  looked  Hke  Charles 
Henry;  but  then  unfortunately  all  vastly  older  per- 
sons do  not  resemble  him !  That  perhaps  sets  me 
a  little  out  of  humor  with  m'lady."  She  reached  up 
and  pulled  a  long  spray  of  bright  pink  peach-blossom 
and  used  its  daintiness  to  keep  away  the  buzzing  veld 
flies,  that,  settling  on  the  neck  and  arms,  can  make 
conversation  in  a  South  African  orchard  an  uncom- 
fortable proceeding.  "  Dear  Mrs.  Crawford,  tell 
me  why  nobody  is  ever  quite  happy.  There's  her 
ladyship,  not  quite  happy,  is  she?  " 

"There  is  Crawford  —  not  quite  happy  about 
Jane!" 

"  There  is  poor  darling  Excellency." 

*'  There  are  Josias,  Whitefoote,  and  Company, 
Dirk  and  Aletta,  and  everyone  we  know  well  — 
and  I?" 

"  Georgie,  love,  do  you  not  love  Mr.  Bigge?  Is 
that  why  we  are  becoming  so  pessimistic?  Do  you 
love  somebody  else,  Georgie?  Is  that  the  trouble, 
dear?" 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Crawford,  believe  me  when  I  say  I 
do  not  know.  Believe  me  when  I  say  I  understand 
myself,  my  motives,  and  my  doings,  so  little,  that  I 


CAPE  CURREY  i8i 

seem  now,  like  —  there  —  like  these  peach-blossoms 
blown  about  in  a  breeze  which  springs  from  other 
people's  blustering.  Love  appears  to  me  as  the 
most  useful  excuse  for  this  state  of  affairs;  but 
whether  it  is  the  Commissioner  or  big  Josias,  or  — 
er  —  other  people  —  or  just  myself  —  indeed  I  can- 
not say.  Circumstances,  appear  to  me  to  account 
for  much,  and  more  especially  for  my  preposterous 
conversation !  " 

She  took  Mrs.  Crawford  by  the  arm  and  walked 
her  slowly  through  the  orchard,  chattering  away 
about  the  arrivah  of  the  next  day:  "  and  in  which 
of  my  gowns  shall  I  receive  the  Commissioner?  — 
organdie  —  the  white?  or  the  deep  blue  tarlatan  — 
and  shall  I  tie  up  my  curls  with  blue  ribbons?  I 
must  look  my  best,  certainly  I  must,  for  to-morrow 
evening.  Think  of  it  I  to-morrow  evening  my  hands 
will  be  kissed  —  and  even  —  perhaps  my  right  eye- 
brow!     Perhaps!  " 

At  the  high  curved  steps  of  the  green-shuttered 
bow-windowed  shooting  lodge,  she  and  Mrs.  Craw- 
ford parted.  Georgiana  turned  at  the  big  oak  door 
leading  to  her  suite  of  rooms. 

"But  I  said  perhaps,  did  I  not?  I  cannot  be 
certain  of  that  kiss  on  the  eyebrows  1  " 

She  laughed  and  waved  to  her  friend,  then  opened 
the  door  and  closed  it  behind  her. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  Journey  and  a  Soliloquy  on  an  Ancient  Game 

Five  riders  passed  up  the  steep  pathway  of  the 
Bain's  Kloof  Gorge  two  days  later.  The  party, 
which  was  composed  of  the  Governor,  Dr.  Barry, 
Mr.  Bigge,  Mr.  Whitefoote  and  an  orderly,  had 
slept  the  night  at  Wellington,  leaving  Cape  Town 
in  the  afternoon  of  the  preceding  day.  A  fierce 
south-east  wind  blew  across  the  Isthmus  from  one 
Ocean  to  another,  and  clouds  of  fine  white  sand 
veiled  the  curve  of  False  Bay,  as  if  the  wind  had 
dashed  the  surf  with  tremendous  force  against  the 
land.  They  had  reached  the  little  village  of  a  sin- 
gle street  one  mile  in  length,  called  the  Paarl,  be- 
cause of  the  granite  that  capped  the  mountains  be- 
hind the  village  —  great  shining  gray  pearl  coronets 
—  breathless,  with  blind  eyes,  thankful  for  a 
"  soopje  "  of  Pontac,  at  the  homestead  of  Japie  de 
Villiers,  and  thankful  for  the  screen  the  mountains  af- 
forded them  from  the  tearing  wind.  The  peace  and 
brooding  atmosphere  of  the  long  white-washed, 
thatched  village,  almost  enticed  a  longer  lingering, 
had  not  the  Landdhost  of  the  District,  from  Welling- 
ton, ridden  over  to  meet  them,  and  to  welcome  them 

182 


CAPE  CURREY  183 

to  the  next  village.  The  calm,  blue,  Berg  river 
stretched  its  placid  shallow  waters  between  the  Paarl 
and  Wellington;  the  vineyards,  hedged  with  white 
wild  roses  bordered  Its  banks,  and  beyond  was  their 
road,  through  acres  and  acres  of  purple  and  terra- 
cotta field  flowers. 

Wellington  village  received  them  In  a  nightcap 
of  purple  evening  mists;  the  noise  of  cattle  coming 
home  from  the  veld;  the  crack  of  the  long  thonged 
whips  of  the  herds;  vague  shadowy  humanity  that 
*'  Daaged  "  a  late  day  greeting  to  them  from  out 
of  the  shadow;  the  high  shrill  notes  of  the  big  frogs 
from  the  mud  of  the  river  beds;  scattered  home- 
stead lights;  the  scent  of  newly-baked  bread  and 
freshly  ground  coffee;  and  the  distant  notes  of  the 
deep  voice  of  a  native  singing  to  a  banjo  accom- 
paniment; all  the  sounds  that  mean  a  little  rest  .  .  ., 
a  little  rest,  and  then, — the  next  day;  that  is  the 
suggestion  of  an  African  night  I  not  the  dead  noise- 
less darkness  of  other  nights  of  other  lands,  but  just 
a  lessening  of  light,  a  lessening  of  commotion  and 
sound  and  energy  for  a  short  time;  and  almost,  as 
the  noises  have  ceased,  faint  suggestions  of  the  com- 
ing of  day  are  heralded  by  the  fowl  yards,  the  low- 
ing of  kine,  the  stirring  of  sheep,  and  the  twittering 
of  the  songless  birds;  the  short  Interval  of  life  of 
the  day  is  bridged  and  linked  by  the  ceaseless  Sicada, 
whose  untiring  wings  fan  the  air  all  night. 


1 84  CAPE  CURREY 

By  five  o'clock  next  morning  the  party  was  on 
its  way  to  Worcester,  to  reach  it  that  evening  in  the 
glow  of  the  sunset.  Along  the  narrow  gorge,  that 
afternoon,  a  troop  of  baboons,  like  sentinels  on  out- 
post duty  guarding  the  Pass,  had  rolled  heavy  rocks 
from  the  heights  onto  the  pathway,  and  over  the 
steep  short  precipices  into  the  river  bed,  to  crush 
In  their  career  the  sweet  smelling  herbs,  crimson  and 
green  ixias,  red  and  yellow  proteas;  terrifying  the 
horses,  more  by  their  shrill  chattering  and  screams 
than  by  the  rapid  descent  of  the  rocks.  For  refresh- 
ment, the  party  had  unsaddled  in  the  shade  of  some 
willows,  growing  near  the  water's  edge,  hundreds 
of  feet  above  the  plains  of  the  world  around,  above 
the  surrounding  WelHngton  peaks  that  rose  from 
the  green  valley  in  soft  undulating  slopes,  as  though 
millions  of  yards  of  gentle-toned  velvet  had  been 
flung  over  their  rock  foundations  to  fall  in  graceful 
clinging  folds  around  their  base :  the  Breede-river 
splashed  over  the  boulders  with  electric  force,  spark- 
ling where  the  sunlight  caught  its  waters,  darkhng 
in  somber  pools.  Before  the  travelers  lay  the  huge 
plains  of  Worcester,  faced  by  the  Hex  river  moun- 
tains, the  great  barriers  that  guarded  the  interior, 
one  day  to  be  broken  and  bridged  with  pickax  and 
tunnel  and  dynamite  into  the  highway  of  develop- 
ment that  was  to  reach  like  a  great  Octopus  to  the 
four  corners  of  the  Continent;  years  were  still  to 


CAPE  CURREY  185 

elapse,  years  full  of  Wars  and  Treaties,  of  Adven- 
ture and  Concessions,  and  Discoveries,  wherein  the 
country  was  to  retain  Its  role  of  Shuttlecock  In  the 
game  of  Battledore,  bandied  across  the  dividing  net 
of  nationality;  one  minute  English  ground;  with  the 
next  twist  of  the  Battledore,  back  It  flew  Into  Dutch 
keeping;  backwards  and  forwards,  from  1553  to 
19 19,  and  who  can  predict  who  will  tire  of  this  old- 
fashioned  game  first!  Battledore  and  Shuttlecock! 
And  In  spite  of  this  perpetual  game,  the  high  moun- 
tains have  bowed  themselves,  and  stooped  like  tall 
camels,  to  take  on  themselves  the  burden  of  Iron 
for  man's  advancement. 

''Thank  God!"  ejaculated  Somerset,  as.  In  a 
cloud  of  red  dust,  they  turned  from  the  high  road 
into  the  Somerset  gardens.  "  It  has  the  Peace  of 
Eden,  BIgge;  what  think  you?  and  apples  ad  finltum 
—  not  forbidden  either !  " 

How  much  his  Influence  had  wrought  the  miracle 
of  the  BIgge  engagement  and  how  far  he  felt  his 
daughter's  feelings  had  been  sacrificed  to  the  family 
honor,  can  only  be  judged  when  the  reader  has  read 
to  the  end  of  the  story.  It  was  not  only  the  Somer- 
set family  honor.  In  fact.  It  was  a  great  deal  the 
question  of  how  Georgle  was  to  be  saved  from  her- 
self, for  he  had  never  been  deceived  by  her  familiar 


i86  CAPE  CURREY 

railleries  against  Barry.  Apart  from  anything  else 
it  was  such  a  ridiculous  attachment;  he  grew  uncom- 
fortable at  further  thought.  Barry's  removal  was 
a  way  out,  but  this  other  alternative  suited  all  best; 
her  public  betrothal  to  the  Commissioner.  These 
were  days,  too,  when  young  women  married  often 
to  please  papas  ...  or  made  that  the  excuse. 
Georgie  was  so  mighty  pleasing,  and  Bigge  would 
never  see  forty-five  again  —  perhaps  even  fifty  1 
But  if  he  could  do  it,  why  should  not  Bigge;  and 
run  for  a  prize,  too  —  why  not? 

That  evening  Georgiana  on  the  high  stoep,  under 
the  stars  heard  John  Bigge  on  his  love  and  his  suit. 

''I  think  we  will  keep  this  engagement  as  a  secret, 
only  to  be  shared  by  our  best  friends,  until  after  the 
report  of  the  Commission  has  reached  England,  or 
we  will  be  having  your  reputation  joining  the  already 
numerous  collection  that  lie  buried  under  the  shadow 
of  Table  Mountain,"  she  had  said  as  he  kissed  her 
hand  She  thought  of  Josias  at  that  moment:  that 
he  had  not  kissed  her  hand  in  the  narrow  old 
cabriolet. 

"  Why,  my  pet,  my  pretty  child,  lose  a  reputation? 
why,  I  should  gain  a  new  one,  for  which  the  first 
would  be  well  lost.  Child !  for  years  low  spirits 
were  my  true  and  faithful  companions ;  they  got  up 
with  me,  went  to  bed  with  me,  made  journeys  and 
returns  with  me,  we  paid  visits  together,  they  even 


CAPE  CURREY  187 

affected  to  be  happy  and  force  a  laugh  from  me,  but 
most  commonly  we  sit  together  and  are  the  prettiest 
insipidest  company  in  the  world.  But  when  you 
came  —  like  the  fate  of  any  humble  company  they 
make  place  for  you,  and  go  —  my  dear." 

A  fairly  pretty  speech,  not  perfectly  correct  in 
every  detail,  but  true  to  his  present  mood,  poor  man. 

Then  they  talked  like  sensible  people,  she  sup- 
posed, on  the  situation,  of  the  great  reward  offered 
for  any  news  of  the  placard  perpetrators,  and  of 
how  awkward  it  made  the  situation  that  Doctor 
James  had  been  seen  by  so  many  witnesses  in  con- 
nection with  the  business,  giving  impetus  to  the  idea 
that  at  least  Government  House  knew  all  about  it, 
and  knew  that  the  gigantic  reward  would  not  be 
claimed. 

Here  was  poor  little  Miss  Somerset  faced  with 
a  predicament  which  was  ultimately  to  take  her,  not 
too  reluctantly,  out  of  the  arms  of  the  Commissioner 
of  Enquiry,  for  he  sought  that  his  new  reputation 
should  be  entirely  respectable.  She  faced  it  alone 
in  her  bedroom  that  night;  without  complicating  Al- 
etta,  and  in  her  train.  Dirk  Zorn;  without  breaking 
faith  with  AJetta,  she  could  never,  not  even  to  save 
Doctor  James'  reputation,  tell  her  family  —  the 
world  would  not  believe  it,  so  it  would  be  useless  to 
include  them  —  that  she  had  taken  down  the  placard. 
Even  if  she  did,  it  would  do  very  little  good:  she 


1 88  CAPE  CURREY 

was  the  Governor's  daughter,  and  that  Implied  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  slanderers  that  more  than 
likely  she  was  shielding  Barry,  and  so  on  through 
interminable  tangles.  Another  idea  that  came  as 
balm  to  her  mood,  was  that.  If  nothing  was  forth- 
coming—  no  further  evidence  —  if  Edwards  was 
transported,  the  whole  thing  might  quiet  down. 
She  had  meant  to  tell  Lord  Charles,  the  day  after 
the  scandal,  but  fate  had  bundled  her  off  to  Worces- 
ter with  communication  out  of  the  question  for  days 
at  a  time.  And  now  Mr.  Commissioner  John  Bigge 
was  making  things  more  Impossible  by  desiring  a 
very  desirable  thing  from  some  points  of  view  — 
"  and  Papa  desires  It !  "  What  if  the  Commissioner 
were  faced  by  her  share  in  the  episode? 

She  pulled  down  her  short  fair  hair  and  began 
brushing  it  before  her  dressing  glass.  "  I  did  look 
my  part!  I  have  a  monstrous  straight  body  .  .  ." 
she  patted  her  slim  hips  through  folds  of  cambric. 
"  It  Is  really  not  a  hard  thing  to  look  extremely  like 
a  man;  "  then  she  began  to  giggle,  and  her  humor 
showed  In  the  merry  curl  of  her  upper  lip,  always 
for  her,  the  weathercock  of  her  moods.  "  But  a 
slim  young  man,  la !  la !  If  I  tried  for  a  year  I  could 
never  assume  the  disguise  of  the  Commissioner." 
She  shook  her  brush  at  the  Image  in  the  glass. 
"  Perhaps  It  would  be  as  well,"  she  said,  "  if  we 
never  let  ourselves  think  of  such  things  again  — 


CAPE  CURREY  189 

odious  thoughts  —  oh,  Heaven!"  She  threw  the 
brush  Into  one  corner  of  the  room,  kicked  her  httle 
shpper  Into  another,  and  cried  on  her  bed  until  she 
grew  cold. 

Mr.  Penderby,  who  was  more  alive  to  his  nerves 
than  was  Mr.  Whitefoote,  had  drunk  a  last  des- 
perate drink  before  retiring  to  his  rooms  In  a  little 
Pavilion  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  main 
building.  The  drink  had  been  desperate,  for  he  had 
made  up  his  cautious  mind  that  he  would  be  very 
generous,  wait  until  his  three  rivals,  Joslas  and 
Whitefoote  and  Barry,  arrived,  and  then  would  mus- 
ter sufficient  courage  to  propose  for  her  hand. 
Judge  of  his  shocked  honor  at  finding  an  added  rival, 
one  whose  danger  had  not  struck  him  before :  he  had 
certainly  seen  Georglana  alone  In  the  garden  with 
Mr.  Commissioner.  This  was  In  Itself  an  unpleas- 
ant surprise.  It  kept  him  from  his  bed,  and  sent 
him  prowling  around  her  window  In  the  moonlight, 
and  caused  him  to  overhear  this  goddess  weeping 
herself  to  sleep :  for  he  did  not  move  or  budge  or 
breathe,  poor  wretch;  not  even  when  her  shoe  clat- 
tered over  the  polished  floor. 

The  days  spent  at  Worcester  were  crammed  with 
expectations  and  anticipations.  The  Governor, 
moody  and  gout-ridden,  wreaked  wordy  vengeance 
on  the  Free  Press,  which  continued  Its  crusade  In 
spite  of  opposition  and  the  Imprisonment  of  its  au- 


I90  CAPE  CURREY 

thors :  "  enough  of  these  scandals,  .  .  .  governa- 
orlal  corruptions  .  .  .  feeble  flight  and  exile.  .  .  ." 
Therefore,  no  one  labored  under  the  delusion  that 
things  were  blowing  over  in  the  capital.  "  God 
knows,"  groaned  the  Governor  to  Barry,  "  one  can- 
not hve  the  Hfe  of  a  gentleman  in  this  glass  house." 

Barry  sniggered.  "  It's  the  beginning  of  what 
histories  will  call  the  Freedom  of  the  Press,  and  the 
Purification  of  the  Pavilion.  We've  grown  too  ac- 
customed to  ourselves,  these  years  of  war;  we  have 
all  been  too  interested  and  too  busy  to  worry  about 
this  '  Corruption  '  as  it  is  called :  with  constant  ex- 
citement of  invasion  and  victories,  who  was  there  to 
bother  about  his  tailor's  prejudices?  Personally,  I 
believe  it's  the  tailors  and  their  prejudices  that  are 
going  to  form  the  next  invasion:  to  escape  from 
them  we  shall  all  have  to  find  our  own  Elba.  I 
found  mine,  did  I  not,  Sir?  some  years  ago." 

His  odd  face  puckered  as  though  he«  were  going 
to  cry. 

"Strange!"  said  Somerset,  "it  is  always  one's 
own  people  who  rend  one.  The  Dutch  are  behaving 
well  and  having  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  agi- 
tation; and  from  what  I  see  of  men  like  Cloete  and 
young  Van  der  Bijl,  or  girls  like  Aletta,  the  next  gen- 
eration may  break  through  the  hedges  of  uncultured 
Calvinism  and  make  something  of  a  Nation  out  of 
the  Haggis  of  Nations." 


CAPE  CURREY  191 

Barry  nodded  — *'  But  you  must  first  break  be- 
fore you  make.  ...  I  appear  to  be  rhyming  wis- 
dom for  Posterity." 

The  Governor  changed  the  conversation  and 
poured  himself  some  Pontac. 

"  Mr.  BIgge  has  done  me  the  honor  to  propose 
for  Georgle's  hand." 

The  heavy,  pale  lids  closed  over  Barry's  eyes. 
To  tide  over  an  uncomfortable  silence,  Lord  Charles 
clapped  his  hands  for  a  black  servant  who  passed 
through  the  Hall  where  he  and  Barry  were  sitting: 
"  Mumbo,  tell  Plet  to  clean  my  guns;  we  will  shoot 
wild  geese  this  evening  on  the  Blue  Vlei;  "  then  he 
continued  as  a  reply  to  Barry's  silence,  '*  It  seems 
that  Georgie  is  quite  willing  to  accept  him."  His 
tone  was  questioning.  Barry's  mood  stung  him; 
his  racked  nerves  gave  vent  to  a  choleric  outbreak. 

"  By  God,  don't  sit  there  as  if  you  at  least  did 
not  realize  that  the  solution  is  miraculous.  Have 
you  not  helped  and  encouraged  it  yourself?  .  .  . 
Your  eyelids  themselves  are  almost  an  accusation. 
Damn  your  impudence!  Damn  it!"  His  voice 
stormed  and  resounded  down  the  long  corridors, 
and  Mr.  Penderby  and  Josias  came  hurrying  along 
to  find  the  Governor  shaking,  apoplectic  and  speech- 
less, and  Barry  quietly  picking  up  bits  of  broken 
glass. 

"  Barry  is  as  smug  as  he's  demmed,"  the  Governor 


192  CAPE  CURREY 

grumbled.  And  no  more  was  said  of  the  affair  or 
of  the  engagement,  though  the  Staff  discussed  it 
among  themselves. 

Penderby,  with  the  greater  knowledge  of  having 
seen  BIgge  and  Georgiana  in  the  garden  and  heard 
his  lady  weeping  half  the  night,  allowed  his  own 
expectations  unbounded  freedom.  But  again  later 
in  the  day  it  was  Penderby,  his  pale  ears  turned  into 
crimson  at  some  overheard  conversation,  who  was 
to  intrigue  them  further.  Ears  burnt  and  his  slow 
subnormallty  rose  to  untouched  heights.  Unframed 
thoughts  and  hopes  swam  round  his  near-sighted, 
kind,  stupid  eyes.  There  might  be  some  chances 
for  him  then.  If  His  Excellency  squashed  the  Sur- 
geon's to  such  degrees  of  finality.  There  was  no 
doubt  of  the  conversation  drifting  from  the  open 
window  on  to  the  long  verandah  where  Penderby 
was  laboriously  tracing  on  a  map  three  good  routes 
for  the  next  Drag  Hunt  across  the  Veld,  destined 
to  be  censored  by  Georgiana  and  passed  on  to  the 
Master  of  the  Cape  Hounds. 

As  he  was  a  very  slow,  methodical,  young  man, 
the  very  second  the  conversation  became  definite  to 
his  Intelligence,  he  began  folding  up  the  map  in  all  its 
complicated  creases  an'd  collected  his  papers  with 
Georglana's  written  instructions.  This  took  a  few 
minutes.     Meanwhile    Lord    Charles    ranted    and 


CAPE  CURREY  193 

fumed  out  of  all  proportion  or  consideration  of  open 
windows  or  casual  passers  by. 

*'  I'll  not  have  It,  confound  you!  Your  pardon! 
It  can't  go  on,  me  dear.  Not  for  all  the  friends  in 
the  world  —  not  even  for  your  child."  (Penderby 
turned  very  white  again.)  .  .  .  You  leave  Georgle 
alone  now,  and  all  your  play-acting?  Where  shall 
it  land  us,  you  and  me,  and  all  these  foolish  young 
women.  You  overdo  it,  my  dear,  and  God  knows 
I've  encouraged  you.  But  no  tricks  where  the  girl 
is  concerned." 

Then  Barry's  high  voice: 

"  I  vow  you'll  make  me  weep,  Sir,  and  falter,  and 
then  all  will  be  over  and  the  years  will  count  for 
nothing.  Georglana's  a  darling,  but  ridiculous  and 
romantic.  I  ask  you,  Charles  —  am  I  a  captivating 
figure?  No,  my  attitude  towards  her  Is  the  same  as 
my  attitude  towards  all  young  women.  Gallantry! 
It  is  the  role  Sir,  the  role  the  fates  have  bidden  me 
play:  and  by  God,  I'll  play  it  till  the  boy  die,  or  you 
give  me  away  —  as  a  bone  to  the  dogs.  Sir;  the  role. 
Sir,  that  so  intrigued  Miss  Georgle.  Stop  being  the 
friend  and  confidant  of  the  sweet  thing?  No,  no, 
the  sweet  creature!  Daughter,  sister,  all  this,  and 
much  more.  Tell  me  not  to  touch  her  dear  hand, 
ride  with  her,  advise,  cajole,  lecture  or  applaud. 
.  .  .  Yes,  all  this  will  I  endeavor  to  do  :    Damn  you. 


194  CAPE  CURREY 

Charles,  you  make  me  weak  and  sentimental.  I'll 
have  none  of  these  concessions,  I'll  .  .  ." 

Here  Mr.  Penderby's  conscience,  marking  time  to 
his  sense  of  order,  won  by  a  few  seconds,  and  led 
him  to  the  farther  end  of  the  verandah. 

Later,  he  heard  odd  sounds  like  suppressed  sobs, 
though  the  voices  were  too  far  off  for  further  eaves- 
dropping. Still,  sobs !  tears !  and  weakness !  from 
Barry!  It  was  monstrous.  A  mad  proceeding! 
It  made  Mr.  Penderby  extremely  uncomfortable  and 
miserable.  The  elated  feelings  of  having  a  clear 
field  for  himself,  or  at  least  a  field  shared  only 
by  such  undangerous  rivals  as  Whitefoote  and 
Cloete,  faded  before  this  genuine  distress  going  on 
so  near  him. 

Suddenly  the  long  glass  doors  of  the  Governor's 
rooms  opened,  a  furious  Barry  stumbled  down  the 
steps  leading  to  the  garden,  and  the  Governor's  voice 
called  after  him,  "  I'll  put  Cloete  and  Penderby  on 
to  smooth  over  the  ruffled  waters."  Barry  turned, 
saw  Penderby's  horrified  face,  and  waved  "  Good 
luck  to  you,  young  Fish  Blood!  " 

"Insulting  little  viper!"  sniffed  Penderby. 
"Fish  Blood!  I'll  seize  the  first  opportunity  of 
running  him  through  his  effeminate  little  body,  or 
sHtting  his  impertinent  tongue." 

Mr.  Penderby  became  suddenly  a  normal  Insulted 
young  man. 


CAPE  CURREY  195 

And  the  game  of  Battledore  and  Shuttlecock  con- 
tinued, with  a  little  pretty  lady  making  herself  use- 
ful to  the  Fates. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Miss  Somerset  Loses  a  Lover,  and  the  First  Part  of 
This  Story  Ends 

Later,  when  things  were  quieter  In  the  Capital, 
the  Governor  and  his  family  returned  to  Newlands 
House  —  the  long,  low,  white  house  burled  In  blue 
hydrangeas  on  the  banks  of  the  Llesbeeck  River, 
about  eight  miles  from  Cape  Town.  The  rumored 
engagement  of  the  Governor's  daughter  to  Mr. 
BIgge  was  announced;  the  first  of  the  Commission's 
reports  had  gone  to  Lord  Bathurst  and  the  Colony 
awaited  results. 

Things  had  Improved  In  the  Eastern  Provinces: 
better  seasons  had  enabled  the  farmers  and  colonists 
to  recover  after  the  losses  of  the  preceding  years. 
Lord  Charles  has  apphed  for  leave  of  absence,  with 
an  Idea  of  giving  his  own  evidence,  If  it  became  nec- 
essary and  If  the  Report  was  not  found  satisfactory 
— "  though  I  do  not  doubt  that  I  shall  leave  my 
bones  and  reputation  In  South  Africa  .  .  ."  he  said, 
from  the  long  garden  chair  where  he  spent  hours 
a  day  with  Georglana  on  the  lawn  beside  him.  After 
the  return  from  Worcester,  one  night  when  presiding 
at  a  complimentary  banquet,  and  without  any  warn- 

196 


CAPE  CURREY  197 

ing,  he  fainted,  and  gave  Joslas  a  fright  as  he  ac- 
companied him  home  in  the  barouche,  for  he  lay 
panting  and  fighting  for  breath,  cursing  away  the 
little  he  had  left.  So  they  had  carried  him  off  for 
quiet  to  Newlands.  But  he  insisted  upon  signing 
all  letters  and  papers  and  reading  over  the  reports 
from  his  son,  Major  Somerset,  at  Grahamstown. 
Aletta,  to  be  near  Georgiana,  was  close  by,  at  the 
end  of  the  oak  avenue,  stopping  with  the  Van  Bredas 
of  Boshof ;  the  Crawfords  had  Anne  Barnard's  old 
home  across  the  river  —  the  Vineyard,  and  the  three 
girls  fell  Into  the  shallow  Llesbeeck  River  that  di- 
vided the  gardens  with  the  perfect  regularity  with 
which  their  lives  were  conducted.  John  Bigge  had 
been  away  at  Craddock  In  the  Midland  districts, 
hearing  small  grumbles,  and  carrying  Investigations 
Into  the  very  heart  of  the  country  of  the  discontented 
Dutch  —  "  these  nomads,  who  seeking  liberty,  which 
to  them  meant  the  evasion  of  the  responsibility  of 
citizenship,  drive  hordes  of  savages  before  their 
brave  little  bands."  The  country  was  still  in  danger 
of  ravages  by  the  bands  of  natives  who,  divided  by 
internal  troubles  and  warfare,  swept  over  the  Bor- 
ders, burning  and  pillaging  and  plundering.  Every 
day,  tales  of  burned  homesteads  and  fugitive  fam- 
ilies were  brought  into  the  towns  to  the  land-drosts. 
Lord  Charles  saw  that  his  native  policy  had  been 
more  than  diverted  by  the  ideas  of  Sir  Rufane  Don- 


198  CAPE  CURREY 

kin  and  the  interference  of  missioners  of  many  na- 
tionalities. 

"  Would  that  old  Donkin  had  taken  the  strong 
measures  with  them  that  he,  Somerset,  had  observed 
with  the  Wesleyan  gang,  then  probably,  public  opin- 
ion in  England  would  have  been  more  prejudiced 
than  it  was  " ;  for  he  did  not  attempt  to  undervalue 
the  power  of  the  Wesleyans  and  the  slight  paid  to 
their  creed,  when  one  of  their  envoys  began  preach- 
ing, not  to  the  heathen  as  was  arranged,  but  to  the 
soldiers  In  the  towns;  in  which  case  Bathurst  saw 
eye  to  eye  with  the  Governor,  and  Mackenny,  the 
preacher,  was  recalled.  "  Oh,  it  was  such  a  demmed 
nuisance !  and  the  sun  was  warm,  thank  God,  and 
Georgle  a  pretty  enough  filly  to  canter  round  at  his 
pleasure.  So  shuffle  It  all  off  for  an  hour  or  two; 
if  only  so  many  others  were  not  involved!  .  .  .  that 
was  the  rub !  poor  little  Barry,  with  the  bravery  of 
noblesse  oblige!  and  Milady!  having  to  hear  un- 
pleasant stuff,  and  refusing  to  remain  away  too, 
plucky  girl!  .  .  .  and  an  Infant  on  the  way!  '* 

Then  returned  the  dreadful  tiredness  and  lassi- 
tude. As  John  Bigge  fought  his  conscience,  so 
Charles  Somerset  battled  with  his  thoughts,  which 
take  a  man  strongest  when  he  Is  most  unfit,  until 
that  supreme  moment  comes  when  intense  weakness 
acts  as  an  anaesthetic;  the  sun  is  very  warm;  the  sky 
very  blue;  the  hydrangeas  bluer  still;  a  faint  breeze 


CAPE  CURREY  199 

plays  about  the  oak  woods  hedging  out  the  world; 
the  wonderful  numbness  creeps  upwards  from  legs 
to  body  1  to  shoulders !  to  head  and  eyes !  the  gentle 
flapping  of  the  big  flag  hanging  from  the  white  post, 
seems  the  only  sound  —  and  soon  even  that  ceases. 

*'  His  Excellency  Is  asleep,"  whispered  Georglana 
to  Aletta  who  walked  up  through  the  woods  like  a 
tall  Diana  toward  the  group  on  the  lawn,  In  front 
of  the  white  house. 

*'  I  have  been  to  the  stables  to  leave  my  horse; 
Georgle,  come  and  ride;  His  Excellency  will  not  re- 
quire you  while  he  sleeps;  do  come." 

Shortly  after,  the  two  girls  were  racing  madly 
along  the  river  below  Boshof,  past  the  old  Van  Rle- 
beeck  homestead  up  to  the  Bosheuval  Hill,  rising  at 
the  foot  of  Table  Mountain,  crowned  with  a  spark- 
ling forest  of  silver  trees.  They  raced  up  and  they 
raced  down  like  mad  Amazons,  and  did  not  stop  un- 
til they  reached  a  dark  oak  wood,  where  pale  pink, 
sweet-scented  acacias  lined  a  narrow  pathway.  The 
panting  horses  dragged  their  hoofs  through  the  thick 
soft  earth;  before  them  spread  the  panorama  of  the 
Peninsula,  and  the  waters  of  the  Two  Oceans  that 
framed  the  land  in  blue  and  silver.  They  fell  to  dis- 
cussing love,  as  two  girls  will  when  the  world  is  beau- 
tiful, and  life  Is  throbbing  fast  through  their  veins. 

Georglana,  who  wanted  so  much,  was  going  to  be 


200  CAPE  CURREY 

satisfied  by  so  little  (as  she  thought  then),  and  AI- 
etta  was  still  looking  for  mysterious  perfection; 
gathering  every  vestige  of  honey  that  came  in  her 
path,  with  the  slow  lethargy  which  so  characterised 
her :  an  unsatisfied  being,  full  of  untroubled  passion 
and  adventure. 

Little  was  said  of  the  John  Thomas  Bigge  epi- 
sode, but  just  sufficient  to  trouble  the  waters  of  Miss 
Somerset's  secret  well  of  thought,  "  Aletta  thought 
she  was  a  fool  — ."  The  prospective  marriages  that 
have  changed  their  course  by  that  tiny  incubus  —  the 
disapproval  of  a  friend!  A  hint  of  this  and  that! 
just  a  bramble  or  two  across  a  narrow  stream  — 
and,  heigh !  presto !  the  waters  go  elsewhere. 

So  it  happened  that  while  the  two  girls  were  dis- 
cussing love  on  the  Bosheuvel,  two  Commissioners, 
Mr.  Bigge  and  Mr.  Colebrooke,  tired  with  the  heat 
of  the  town,  being  Englishmen,  decided  as  the  sun 
became  less  visible  to  walk  some  miles  across  the  face 
of  the  mountains,  past  the  Block-houses,  down  into 
the  main  road  (leading  from  Cape  Town  to  Simons- 
town,  the  naval  station) ,  and  to  finish  up  through  the 
big  iron  gates  of  Newlands  House.  They  talked  of 
the  situation;  as  if  they  had  not  had  enough  of  it  to 
last  a  lifetime ! 

Commissioner  Colebrooke  felt  that  the  turn  of 
conversation  that  happened  to  include  an  interview 
which  Bigge  had  had  with  the  discontented  Burnett, 


CAPE  CURREY  201 

Into  which  Georglana's  name  crept,  was  a  heaven- 
sent opportunity  whereby  he  might  be  able  to  save 
good  John  Thomas  from  the  unhappy  state  that  Is 
described  In  the  French  language  with  such  short- 
ness of  perfection:  for  Mr.  Commissioner  Mos- 
quito had  never  ceased  to  remember  the  sight  he  saw 
on  that  moonlight  night,  when  he  looked  down  Into 
Stahl  Plein —  (he  had  cause  to,  seeing  that  every 
time  he  performed  his  toilette,  there  was  the  "  All 
that  was  left  of  the  hair  "  to  remind  him)  —  so  "  no 
matter  If  BIgge  was  engaged  to  the  minx  "  he  was 
not  the  man  to  shrink  from  the  nasty  duty  before 
him.  By  the  time  they  reached  the  Blockhouse 
overlooking  the  Old  Groote  Schuur,  one  of  the  first 
homestead  settlements  of  the  Dutch  East  India  Com- 
pany, poor  Georglana  was  standing,  metaphorically, 
stark  naked,  stripped,  as  decently  as  possible,  of 
every  shred  of  respectability  — '*  creeping  In  and  out 
of  men's  rooms  at  two  in  the  morning  "  and  so  and 
so,  and  this  and  that,  until  BIgge  began  to  tremble  as 
the  thought  grew,  that  this  twisted-nosed  minx  was 
no  saint  or  ingenue,  and  that  —  oh  no,  damn  it,  there 
are  some  lengths  one  does  not  allow  one's  most  dis- 
turbed thoughts  to  go  to.  Perhaps  he  might  have 
caught  Mr.  Commissioner  Mosquito  in  all  his  buzz, 
but  one  knows  how  hard  these  Insects  are  to  kill 
when  they  have  started  their  dangerous  song:  they 
tickle  and  tease  until  one  resigns  one's  self  a  victim. 


202  CAPE  CURREY 

BIgge  swore  that  he  was  mistaken,  of  course :  and  the 
other  vowed  he  was  showing  the  greatest  proof  of 
his  loyalty,  etc.,  etc.  But  as  they  turned  Into  the 
cool  gloom  of  the  Newlands  gardens,  Georglana  and 
Aletta  coming  from  the  stables,  met  them,  and  BIgge 
entreated  an  Interview. 

Could  the  narrow,  oak-bordered  pathway  leading 
to  the  river  speak,  It  might  tell  sad  tales  and  jolly 
tales,  and  queer,  queer  tales,  like  those  uncomfort- 
able bewitched  trees  and  benches  and  things  In  leg- 
ends, that  know  so  much  about  other  people's  busi- 
ness. It  could  tell  of  how  an  elderly  man  and  a 
very  young  blue-eyed  creature  walked  up  and  down 
one  summer  night,  and  of  snatches  of  conversation 
not  too  low  to  be  overheard. 

*'  But  you  love  him!  That  seems  to  be  the  unre- 
futable point  —  my  dear,  my  dear  I  " 

"  Sir!  you  must  either  believe  my  strange  story  or 
we  must  part!  I  understood  that  when  men  love 
they  do  not  doubt." 

"  Young  men,  my  pet;  but  Georgie,  Georgie,  tell 
me  it  Is  all  a  dream !  Let  me  be  able  to  go  to  him 
and  say  '  This  is  a  lie,  thank  God.'  Let  it  be  this; 
oh !  my  little  lady,  tell  me  it  did  not  happen.  For  I 
want  you,  Georgie,  I  want  you,"  and  then  the  poor 
gentleman  forgot  all  about  reputations  and  the  ugly 
French  words  that  so  threatened  to  distinguish  the 
situation,  forgot  that  he  was  not  a  young  man,  and 


CAPE  CURREY  203 

forgot  he  was  a  Royal  Commissioner,  forgot  what 
he  wished  his  wife  to  be,  forgot  all  the  ideals  that 
he  had  set  up  round  Miss  Somerset,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment Georgie  was  sorry  she  did  not  return  the  love 
of  Mr.  Commissioner  John  Thomas  Bigge.  Still, 
if  he  could  not  believe  her  explanation  of  what  Mr. 
Mosquito  had  seen  —  well!  Just  as  well  then  that 
it  should  end. 

Bigge  stuck  at  the  fact  that  it  was  Barry's  room; 
the  whole  point  of  course,  or  else  how  was  she  to  get 
his  clothes?  "  Cannot  you  understand,  sir,  my  de- 
termination to  prevent  that  scandalous  writing  ever 
being  seen  by  any  one :  I  dared  not  go  as  myself  or 
trust  another." 

"  But  they  tell  me  you  love  Barry  —  or  loved?  " 

"Absurd,  absurd."  "  He  is  that,  and  this !  "— 
so  ran  the  conversation. 

Poor  girl !  Then  she  made  up  her  mind  that 
Bigge  was  going  to  make  life  an  unpleasant  proceed- 
ing with  jealousy,  and  ultimately  she  had  him  on  his 
knees,  kissing  her  feet,  and,  begging,  entreating, 
swearing  to  beheve  anything,  if  only  .  .  .  But  ''  if 
only  ''  was  the  stumbling  block.  It  could  not  be 
kicked  out  of  the  way:  it  could  not  be  obliterated. 
Bigge,  never  a  suspicious  man,  slow  to  everything  but 
a  legal  or  political  point,  was  fussed  out  of  his  calm: 
he  felt  suddenly  he  was  off  his  pedestal,  and  was 
sharing  the  dusty  ground  with  the  whole  family  Som- 


204  CAPE  CURREY 

erset  .  .  .  there  was  something  rotten  in  this  abom- 
inable affair  after  all;  perhaps  this  sweet  minx  had 
twisted  and  twiddled  his  life  to  suit  her  own  ends. 
Tears  were  streaming  from  her  dear  blue  eyes,  and 
as  she  bent  her  head  to  hide  them  he  saw  the  round 
beautiful  little  breasts  held  in  by  the  pique  riding 
habit  and  the  odd  little  way  the  hair  curled  in  the 
nape  of  her  neck  —  a  soft  warm  spot  where  his 
kisses  had  often  fallen:  she  was  breaking  him,  so  he 
thought,  by  her  surrender  and  tears.  In  reality  he 
broke  her;  for  elderly  gentlemen  must  surely  at  a 
certain  age  have  learnt  the  art  of  taking  care  of 
themselves,  however  romantic  they  may  be ;  and  she, 
poor  girl,  grasped  at  any  straw  that  could  help  to 
pull  her  into  any  sort  of  friendly  bank.  All  this  the 
trees  might  tell  from  their  fund  of  knowledge ;  and 
the  sequel  the  world  knows;  even  history  has  with  it 
more  than  bowing  acquaintance;  also,  it  ends  this 
part  of  the  book,  for  the  following  chapters  come  as 
an  anti-climax  several  years  later. 

That  night,  Bigge  wrote  to  the  Imperial  Govern- 
ment his  resignation,  on  the  grounds  of  ill  health; 
and  to  be  honest,  he  was  broken  in  spirit  and  hopes. 

Georgiana  left  Newlands  a  pale  little  wraith,  but 
thankful  that  she  had  confided  her  secret  to  one  man 
only,  that  man  her  lover;  and  even  he  had  found  it 
a  hard  story  to  believe. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

How  Things  Change! 

Five  Years  Later  in  England  and  Orangezicht,  and 
How  Aletta  Sings  to  the  Harp 

Five  years  later  Lord  Charles  Somerset  died  at 
Brighton. 

"  It  is  a  damned  nuisance,"  Lord  Charles  had  said 
when  his  physician  told  him  his  fear.  When  it  was 
over  Her  Ladyship  went  off  to  France  with  her  two 
daughters,  Mary  and  Augusta  Anne. 

It  was  not  surprising,  his  death.  Worn  out  by  the 
trials  of  espionage  and  intrigue  during  his  tenancy  of 
Governor  of  the  Cape  Colony,  he  was  granted  leave 
of  absence.  Possibly,  there  was  a  greater  trial  to  be 
faced;  Bishop  Burnett  had  primed  the  Press  and 
various  Members  with  every  detail  of  his  wrongs 
and  of  Somerset's  supposed  corrupt  dealings. 
Bigge,  remembering  Georgiana,  wrote  him  a  letter 
when  the  news  of  his  leave  was  granted.  "  You  had 
better,  my  Lord,  face  your  God  than  your  Peers." 
Somerset  laughed  when  he  read  it,  and  called  to 
Georgiana  that  this  Bigge  was  a  wit  at  last,  and  was 
it  her  fault  that  he  had  become  a  humorist.  Then 
he  wrote  his  resignation  to  the  Government,  and 

205 


2o6  CAPE  CURREY 

slept  for  twenty-four  hours.  He  had  few  illusions. 
The  British  Government  could  not  then  afford  to  jus- 
tify the  apparent  failure  of  any  of  its  servants. 
Having  started  the  Babel  of  Colonizing,  with  every 
tongue  clacking  its  own  grievances,  it  looked  for  a 
moment  as  though  the  Tower  of  Empire  was  a  ven- 
ture doomed  to  failure ;  America  had  gone  —  griev- 
ances over-neglected  being  given  as  a  cause.  It  was 
not  likely  that  England  would  sacrifice  a  new  Colony 
to  save  the  Somerset  honor.  HIgh-souled  Justice 
had  driven  Maximus  to  a  speedy  death,  encouraged 
by  his  vision  of  the  pillars  of  the  Great  Roman  Em- 
pire faUIng  in  North  Briton  and  Gaul:  Lord  Charles, 
with  all  the  Illiteracy  of  the  aristocratic  soldier  and 
servant  of  the  State,  drew  no  deductions,  being  to- 
tally ignorant  of  comparisons  dealing  with  dead  Ro- 
man Governors:  but  he  died  also,  dragging  his 
feeble  strength  across  the  seas,  but  leaving  his  soul, 
dead,  in  the  Blue  Shadow  of  Table  Mountain,  where 
so  many  more  earnest  and  less  earnest  servants  of 
the  Empire  were  to  leave  their  bodies  and  their 
souls. 

For  it  was  a  shaky  Government  at  Rome,  Great 
Rome  about  to  fall,  that  could  not  in  their  hour  of 
need  justify  the  greatest  iniquities  of  her  Generals 
or  their  abortive  enthusiasms.  In  April  1827  Lord 
Canning  succeeded  Lord  Liverpool  as  Prime  Minis- 
ter.    Lord   Goderich    followed   Earl   Bathurst   as 


CAPE  CURREY  207 

Minister  for  the  Colonies.  In  May,  Wllmot  Hor- 
ton,  M.  P.,  moved  In  the  Commons  that  the  reports 
of  the  Commissioners  of  Inquiry  Into  charges  of  tyr- 
anny should  be  laid  upon  the  table:  this  was  agreed 
to.  But  when  In  June  the  matter  was  debated,  with 
the  feeling  of  the  House  strongly  In  his  favor,  as  the 
reports  had  entirely  exculpated  Lord  Charles  from 
the  graver  charges,  the  Minister  for  the  Colonies 
announced  the  resignation,  written  some  two  months 
previous,  of  Lord  Charles  Somerset.  Impossible 
for  BIgge  to  have  foreseen  the  tide  of  events,  or  to 
have  risked  the  hearing  of  the  debate  on  the  subject, 
for  Heaven  alone  knew  what  documents  or  matter 
would  have  been  produced.  Mr.  Wllmot  Horton 
may  have  had  other  Information  than  what  lay  on 
the  Table  of  the  House  signed  by  John  Thomas 
BIgge  and  Mr.  d'Escarey  and  Mr.  Colebrooke. 

Georglana  wept  for  a  week  In  the  cold  room  over- 
looking the  sea  where  Lord  Charles  died;  then  ac- 
companied by  James  Barry  who  had  been  with  them 
during  the  last  days  of  her  father's  illness,  she  trav- 
elled up  to  London  and  to  her  sister,  Lady  Wynd- 
ham's  house. 

Elizabeth  Wyndham  dried  her  eyes,  and  carried 
her  North,  to  the  big  gathering  of  relations  collected 
in  Scotland. 

While  with  the  Wyndhams,  she  received  from 
Aletta  a  letter,  which,  as  this  girl  wrote  very  seldom 


2o8  CAPE  CURREY 

and  always  guardedly,  was  calculated  to  set  Miss 
Somerset  thinking,  though  she  had  long  ago  given  up 
her  once  conceived  idea  of  confiding  all  she  had 
heard  of  Barry's  supposed  private  life.  But  there 
were  things  in  the  letter  which  calmed  some  fears  at 
least. 

Reading  it  in  the  cold,  big.  Castle  facing  the 
drizzle-haunted  moors,  her  mind  and  senses  returned 
to  sun-streaked  avenues  and  thatch,  and  silver-treed 
mountains. 

"  The  Homestead  of  Orangczicht, 
"  January,  1827. 
*'  My  most  dear  Georgie, 

"  It  is  a  very  hot  night  —  evening  rather,  as  I  can  still  see 
to  write.  Captain  Cadogan's  sister,  who  is  on  her  way  home 
from  India,  promises  to  take  this,  and  a  pot  of  watermelon 
Konfeit  that  Tante  Petronelle  sends  you.  We  remember 
how  you  love  it. 

"  The  days  and  months  were  very  desperately  dull  after 
you  all  left.  I  was  near  driven  to  despair  on  having  to  be 
kissed  by  Cadogan,  who  still  pesters  me.  Dirk  Zorn  is  very 
fat. 

"  About  a  month  ago  Uncle's  old  Malay  driver  fell  ill  and 
we  were  forced  to  put  up  a  *  Negocie '  affiche  in  the  George 
Tavern  for  a  new  one.  A  most  amazing  old  Malay  arrived, 
and  has  been  here  ever  since.  He  invited  me  (he  is  a  freed 
slave)  to  his  grand-daughter's  wedding.  Such  an  afFair!  It 
took  three  days,  and  she  had  a  new  and  more  gorgeous  cos- 
tume to  wear  each  day;  satin,  adorned  with  wonderful  beads 
and  tinsels,  and  splendid  headdresses  like  the  Burmese  gods 
Uncle  Tobias  had  on  his  ship,  when  he  came  from  Mandalay 


CAPE  CURREY  209 

—  all  spiked  and  golden  and  silver  with  orange  flower  ar- 
ranged in  between  the  spikes  and  halo.  You  did  not  see  a 
Malay  wedding,  did  you,  my  love?  They,  the  man  and  his 
bride,  do  not  meet  until  all  the  friends  take  them  to  a  bed- 
room hung  with  black  velvet:  the  bed  alone  is  white  satin. 
The  carpet,  also  black  velvet,  was  strewn  with  gold  spangles 
and  red  camelias.  The  bride  has  spent  the  three  days  with 
her  women,  weeping,  in  front  of  a  looking  glass,  quaint 
dirges;  apparently  the  bridegroom  and  his  friends  have  had  a 
very  merry  time,  eating  and  drinking  and  singing. 

"  I  think  this  is  an  extremely  amazing  idea  —  this  idea  of 
not  really  knowing  the  man,  well,  until  the  last  moment. 
Here,  as  you  know,  we  grow  too  accustomed  to  our  men  to  be 
enraptured  over  the  mere  marrying.  As  usual,  Georgle,  I 
am  speaking  vulgarly,  and  not  at  all  as  befits  a  young  Miss. 

"  I  saw  a  young  Malay  slave  at  the  wedding  who  has  not 
been  seen  by  his  family  for  years,  so  old  Zaccary  tells  me. 
He  was  bought,  when  very  young,  by  Dr.  James  —  and  they 
don't  know  where  he  has  been,  and  he  will  not  enlighten 
them.  Most  oddly,  I  met  him  the  other  evening,  quite  late, 
running  through  the  little  oaks  near  the  haunted  homestead 
of  Nooitgedacht,  and,  what  say  you,  Georgle?  he  had  a  long 
rope  that  he  flung  over  a  big,  walnut  tree  growing  in  the 
walled  garden  and  climbed  up  like  a  monkey.  I  wondered 
why  he  did  not  go  through  the  gate,  until  I  tried  it  and  found 
it  locked.  But,  as  I  was  doing  this,  a  voice  at  the  gate, 
whispered  *  Adonis  —  Adonis  —  Is  that  you  — ?  Oh,  where 
are  you,  Adonis?  '  Georgle,  it  was  a  wonderful  voice;  un- 
like any  I  have  ever  heard.  I  must  tell  you  all  this,  my  love, 
for  my  heart  and  soul  are  fit  to  burst  with  suppressed  '  me.' 
Something  made  me  whisper  back;  '  No,  it  is  I.'  And  the 
voice  said,  'Who  are  you?'  I  replied,  *  Just  a  woman.' 
My  dear,  the  voice  cried  —  no  other  word  — *  Oh,  are  your 


2IO  CAPE  CURREY 

arms  kind?  .  .  .  are  your  arms  kind?  '  I  ran  away,  I  was 
so  frightened,  and  for  days  and  nights  the  voice  haunted  me. 
My  arms  felt  kind  and  my  heart  seemed  to  grow  larger  and 
larger,  and  I  wanted  to  take  it  in  both  hands  to  the  little  gar- 
den door,  and  say  *  Here  —  here,  poor  voice,  is  my  heart,  for 
I  cannot  give  you  my  arms.' 

"  One  day,  Georgie  —  it  took  one  day's  perseverance  for 
the  wall  is  very  high  —  I  managed  to  sling  two  ropes  over 
the  lowest  bough  of  the  walnut  tree.  I  pulled  myself  up 
and  it  broke  while  I  was  there,  but  I  had  time  to  see  the 
voice.  He  is  most  wonderful  —  in  an  orange  garden, —  this 
beautiful  man.  Now  I  know  I  have  found  all  that  my  soul 
has  longed  for  and  feared :  I  shall  perhaps  not  see  him  again 
as  he  is  never  allowed  out.  What  cruel  Fate  can  so  imprison 
a  young  man?  Can  he  be  a  criminal?  No!  His  slave, 
Adonis,  is  the  only  person  he  has  ever  spoken  to  —  so  he  whis- 
pered. But  the  walnut  bough  is  broken,  and  to-day  I  see  the 
big  tree  has  been  cut  down  and  I  dare  not  be  found  at  the 
gate,  where  an  old  slave,  deaf  and  dumb,  constantly  goes  in 
and  out.  Oh,  my  beloved  friend,  that  such  happiness  and 
such  misery  can  walk  so  silently  hand  in  hand. 
''  In  everlasting  friendship, 

"  Your  Aletta." 

Georgiana  marvelled:  Love,  that  she,  alas,  had 
been  on  a  bowing  acquaintance  with  for  so  many 
years,  had  now  come  to  Aletta !  In  this  mysterious 
fashion  too :  what  it  all  meant  she  was  at  that  mo- 
ment too  engrossed  in  her  own  miseries  to  bother  to 
grasp.  But  Love !  Why  should  she  sorrow  alone  ? 
Why  not  turn  to  the  one  enigmatic  creature  whose 
biting  tongue  had  never  disarmed  her  and  who,  at 


CAPE  CURREY  211 

least,  knew  and  could  sympathize.  AH  doubts  of  a 
seraglio  behind  the  Nooltgedacht  walls  vanished; 
she  vaguely  surmised  that  Barry  might  have  been 
medical  adviser  to  Aletta's  beautiful  young  man  who 
was  Imprisoned  there;  of  course  —  how  silly  Aletta 
was  —  he  was  probably  a  wealthy  lunatic,  and  Al- 
etta had  read  romance  Into  a  dull  enough  explana- 
tion. 

Georglana  wrote  letters  to  Barry,  who  was  in 
London  entertaining  Cloete,  over  from  the  Cape 
for  a  visit.  Barry  never  answered.  Once  Josias 
wrote,  saying  that  even  In  Cape  Town  they  had 
heard  some  London  gossip,  and  If  It  were  even  half 
true,  wished  her  joy  and  happiness;  and  added, 
"  Other  friends  —  a  special  friend  —  would  be  glad 
—  delighted  I  fancy,  to  hear  this  news  confirmed," 
which  for  nice,  dull  Josias,  was  a  stroke  of  diplom- 
acy which  should  be  regarded  In  his  favor,  and  might 
go  to  what  there  was  (much  amiability  and  stolid 
worth),  to  back  up  his  appointment,  years  later,  as 
Governor  of  the  West  Indian  Island,  Jamaica.  But 
practical  Josias  saw  Barry  fret  with  every  new  letter 
from  Georglana,  and  planned  his  coup  to  a  nicety; 
for  no  woman  can  write  to  a  silent  correspondent  un- 
less she  be  neurotic  or  one  of  those  professional  writ- 
ers of  love  letters,  whose  unanswered  yearnings  seem 
to  have  been  reserved  for  later  days. 

Georglana  was  not  neurotic.     She  was  a  pretty 


212  CAPE  CURREY 

woman,  whose  profile  fascinated  as  many  men  as  fall 
victims  to  the  profile  of  most  pretty  women,  so  she 
wrote  a  short  note  to  an  officer  named  Glover,  who 
replied  in  person,  and  raised  the  hopes  of  Lady  Som- 
erset that  Georgiana  would  behave  as  a  pretty  girl 
should  and  marry  him  (which  Georgiana  took  some 
time  to  realize). 

The  same  year,  Major  Josias  Cloete  —  who  had 
returned  to  a  fresh  appointment  at  the  Cape  —  was 
standing  at  the  end  of  Adderley  Street,  watching 
the  landing  of  some  troops  from  a  big  John  Com- 
pany Indiaman,  when  — "  God  bless  my  soul!  where 
the  devil  do  you  spring  from?  "  and  he  was  grip- 
ping the  hand  of  Barry. 

"  Unpleasant  affair,  Josias  —  very;  I  am  here  on 
my  way  to  India.  Yes,  poor  Charles  Henry!  — 
yes!  yes!  this  all  recalls  it  badly.  Miss  Georgie 
pretty  cut  up  still;  and  not  definitely  engaged  to 
Glover:  But  the  present  position  is,  that  Vm  landing 
to  give  myself  the  pleasure  of  digging  in  the  ribs 
with  a  neat  little  blade,  a  bull-necked  bounder  I  have 
had  the  misfortune  to  have  made  this  voyage  with  — 
a  damned  insulting  beast.  You  will  see  me  through 
this,  Josias?  " 

As  they  walked  up  the  old  familiar  street  and 
turned  off  towards  the  Castle,  the  big  Cloete  drag 
rattled  on  to  the  Parade  ground  and  Josias  re- 
marked:    "Anyhow,  you  will  come  out  to  Ronde- 


CAPE  CURREY  213 

bosch  for  the  night ;  we  can  ride  in  early  to-morrow 
morning  and  .  .  ." 

Barry  showed  over-much  zeal  to  refuse  the  invita- 
tion: *' Sorry,  sorry  Josias,  but  must  be  fixing  this 
business  early.  Amsterdam  battery  to-morrow 
morning  at  six  o'clock,  eh  Josias?  Ah,  remember 
the  famous  duel  when  you  wounded  me?  and  Charles 

Henry? Poor    old    Charles    Henry!":    his 

voice  tailed  off  to  that  state  of  reminiscence  that  for- 
bade any  demand  or  hint  for  continuation.  Sud- 
denly he  looked  up  at  Cloete  and  touched  his  arm : 
"  Josias?  what  exactly  do  you  think  about  me?  " 

From  any  one  other  man  to  another,  this  ques- 
tion would  have  seemed  grotesque,  but  Cloete  was 
back  in  the  old  Barry  atmosphere  of  the  twenties. 

He  held  out  his  hand;  "That's  all  right,  Doc- 
torje,  you  are  a  game  little  chap !  " 

The  searching  prominent  eyes,  that  seemed  so  anx- 
ious at  his  question,  softened  and  moistened. 
*'  Growing  into  a  damn  maudlin  sentimentalist,  ain't 
I,  Josias?" 

'*  Where  are  you  sleeping  to-night?  " 

"  At  Orangezicht,"  replied  Barry.  "  I  think  I 
want  to  taste  Orangezicht  coffee  again,  and  I  hear 
Aletta  is  more  beautiful  than  Venus  and  as  remote 
as  Diana,  and  that  old  Michael  is  doubling  the 
dowry,  and  that  Dirk  Zorn  being  out  of  It  Cadogan 
leaps  into  the  breach;  is  this  correct  gossip?     I  had 


214  CAPE  CURREY 

It  from  Miss  Georglana  —  poor  little  Miss  Georgle ! 
She  was  up  North  with  the  Wyndhams  when  I  left, 
with  young  Glover  In  tow,  trying  to  remind  her  that 
he  is  considered  one  of  the  best-looking  men  in  the 
Army:  never  could  think,  Josias,  why  you  big  fel- 
lows cannot  fill  breaches  better." 

*'  Hadn't  you  better  report  yourself  at  Govern- 
ment House?  We  are  not  too  gay  a  Society  there, 
but  —  Sir  Lowry  ^  would  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

Barry,  as  usual,  interrupted  him  with,  "  No,  no; 
I  must  go  and  hear  the  gossip,  and  watch  the  sunset 
from  the  mountain.  It  Is  no  use  letting  all  Cape 
Town  know  I  am  here  for  twelve  hours.  Is  It?  Will 
you  oblige  me  with  a  mount,  Josias?  " 

Half  an  hour  later  Barry  unlocked  the  little  gar- 
den gate  of  the  white  walled  house  on  the  mountain 
side. 

Orange  trees  again!  Oleanders  in  blossom;  the 
silent  slaves;  old,  very  old  Majuba,  with  head  bent, 
sitting  browsing  in  the  warmth;  all  seemed  un- 
changed. 

The  people  of  Cape  Town  would  have  told  you 
that  Major  Barry  had  not  been  to  the  Cape  since 
Lord  Charles  left  In  1826;  leave  of  absence  had  been 
granted,  but  Lord  Charles  had  left  never  to  return. 
Various  Members  of  Parliament  were  pressing  the 
Government  for  further  explanations  of  the  Somer- 

1  The  Governor  —  Sir  Lowry  Cole. 


CAPE  CURREY  215 

set  policy,  questions  stimulated  by  Bishop  Burnett's 
indefatigable  persecution  of  Lord  Charles. 

Lord  Charles  resigned  and  all  questions  were 
withdrawn :  so  men  choose  their  own  graves. 

But  Majuba,  could  he  have  spoken,  would  have 
told  how  one  stormy,  blustering,  winter  night,  two 
years  ago,  a  muffled  little  figure  had  slipped  Into  the 
garden,  and  knocked  at  the  big  door.  Majuba  had 
started  with  surprise.  By  the  light  of  the  big  brass 
lantern,  Majuba  lighted  Barry  Into  the  great  Vor- 
huls,  where  he  had  drunk  wine  and  talked  to  Majuba 
by  the  queer  finger  language,  and  Majuba  had  car- 
ried the  brass  lantern  before  him  down  the  long  pan- 
elled corridor  to  the  big  room  all  hung  with  Indian 
silks  and  stuffs,  and  had  held  the  shaded  light  above 
the  sleeping  body  of  a  young  man,  who  wore  a  high 
silk  stock  round  his  neck,  whose  face  was  more  beau- 
tiful than  were  the  faces  of  other  men,  and  whose 
body  seemed  thin  and  emaciated  under  the  light  cov- 
erings :  round  one  hand,  that  lay  on  the  quilt,  he  wore 
a  white  linen  bandage. 

Outside  the  teak  shutters,  the  north  wind  shrieked 
maledictions  over  the  town  below.  Barry  had  stood 
at  one  side  of  the  bed  and  old  Majuba  opposite, 
looking  down  at  the  young  man.  Then  they  looked 
at  one  another.  Presently,  Barry  had  passed  In  to  a 
little  dressing  room  leading  off  from  the  bedroom, 
had  waked  a  tall  young  slave  called  Adonis,  had 


2i6  .        CAPE  CURREY 

talked  with  him  long  into  the  night,  and  had  walked 
out  into  the  darkness  with  a  small  lantern,  alone, 
down  into  the  town,  and  on  further  to  the  wharf, 
and  the  little  waiting  boat.  So  he  rowed  quietly  and 
silently  over  the  stormy  waters  to  the  big  English 
sailing  ship,  straining  and  tugging  at  her  anchor  as 
though  she  longed  to  show  her  fettle  and  ride  out  to 
meet  the  angry  seas.  In  the  face  of  the  Northern  gale. 
It  was  so  short  and  quiet,  this  episode,  that  Majuba 
thought  of  It  almost  as  of  a  dream;  and  though  the 
sailing  ship  folded  her  sail  wings  for  two  days  in  the 
Bay,  her  captain  simply  took  In  fresh  water  and 
food,  and  made  off  quickly  for  St.  Helena  as  destina- 
tion. Majuba  and  Adonis  alone  knew  the  name  of 
the  only  passenger  on  board. 

Always,  to  old  Majuba,  Barry  confided  his  fears 
and  sufferings  .  .  .  that  nothing  should  be  allowed 
to  spoil  the  quiet  hving  death  of  the  boy  ..."  on 
pain  of  death,  Majuba !  "  And  Barry  had  left  the 
old  slave  with  his  own  pistol  as  a  safeguard. 

Now  he  had  come  again;  just  as  unexpectedly; 
he  walked  Into  the  garden,  and  had  some  hours'  con- 
versation with  the  tall  young  man  with  the  bandaged 
hand,  who  seemed  pale  and  fretful.  The  great 
peace  and  contentment  of  the  house  and  garden  had 
given  place  to  a  disturbed  atmosphere  difficult  to 
analyze.  Adonis,  the  body  slave,  spoke  of  the  long 
sleepless  nights;  of  conversations,  wherein  the  tall 


CAPE  CURREY  217 

young  man  sighed  for  a  glimpse  of  life  beyond  the 
garden  walls;  of  revilings  of  his  dumb  slaves,  of  fits 
of  despair  and  madness  when  the  music  failed  to 
soothe  him;  of  the  disgust  he  had  for  books  and  pic- 
tures; of  midnight  walks  alone  in  the  garden  while 
Adonis  lay  sleeping;  and  of  how  once  a  slave  who 
had  been  acting  watchman  in  the  garden  that  night, 
had  seen  him  speaking  to  some  one  through  the 
grille  in  the  little  gate  in  the  wall. 

Thinking  over  the  spoiled  peace  of  the  walled  gar- 
den Barry  made  a  definite  resolution  to  get  rid  of 
Adonis.  It  was  not,  perhaps,  that  the  dumb  slaves 
were  all  in  a  conspiracy  against  him.  This  was  the 
reason  he  had  given  himself  for  the  oft  repeated 
hints  and  suggestions  of  old  Majuba  that  the  little 
talking  monkey  would  bring  disaster  on  the  House 
in  the  Woods.  As  far  as  any  one  knew,  Adonis  was 
practically  as  ignorant  of  life  beyond  the  garden  as 
the  beautiful  creature  so  ardently  guarded.  For 
years  Barry  had  put  away  the  Idea  that  repeated  it- 
self day  and  night,  sometimes  as  a  foreboding,  some- 
times as  a  picture  .  .  .  that  one  day  the  boy  would 
realize  his  imprisonment  and  would  endeavor  to  es- 
cape. According  to  his  medical  knowledge  the  boy 
I  had  but  a  few  more  years  to  live  ! 

So  many  discontentments,  that  Barry  left  the  gar- 
den that  afternoon  and  walked  through  the  familiar 
woods  with  despair  and  misery  for  companions.     It 


ai8  CAPE  CURREY 

did  require,  as  Lord  Charles  had  said,  a  damn  lot  of 
pluck  to  see  the  thing  through  If  these  years  could 
be  kept  peaceful  and  happy.  That  would  be  the  end 
of  the  task;  the  great  day  when  he  would  lay  down 
his  desperate  burden,  all  the  play  acting  over,  all  the 

strain,  scheming,  joking,  working the  whole  of 

the  life  that  had  been  but  a  great  jest!  He  would 
some  day  be  able  to  walk  far  Into  some  hot  warm 
desert  and  watch  life  die  out  of  his  tired  body,  or  he 
would  step  off  the  sleek  sides  of  some  sea-worn  rocks 
into  the  cold,  watery,  silver  of  the  moonway  across 
an  ocean,  or  he  could  go,  still  with  his  secret  safe,  to 
sweet  Georglana  who  wanted  nothing  of  him  but 
companionship  and  sympathy,  and  sentiment;  she, 
too,  was  wearied  by  much  living  and  much  planning 
—  perchance,  like  few  had  done  before. 

If  only  they  could  ride  out  Into  the  veld  and  wan- 
der among  the  native  tribes  until  both  should  cease  to 
desire  more  days.  But  he  could  not  disguise  from 
himself  that  Finality  was  the  Lure;  all  Ideas  were 
simply  methods  very  pleasant,  towards  it. 

The  pursuit  of  an  Ideal,  followed  for  many  years, 
without  reckoning,  had  led  to  such  events  that  turn 
some  lives  Into  fairy  tales  full  of  ogres  and  impossi- 
bility. 

He  was  received  with  joy  by  the  Household  at 
Orangezicht.     Old  Michael  dragged  him  from  the 


CAPE  CURREY  219 

arms  of  Petronelle  and  Marie,  who  was  defying  pre- 
diction, appearing  perfectly  content  with  the  Fiscal, 
who  for  his  part  was  doing  his  best  to  keep  time  with 
his  pretty  Marie  by  warding  off  gout  and  baldness 
with  unwearying  devotion,  though  it  involved  the 
sacrifice  of  his  greatest  pleasures. 

"  There  will  be  a  party  to-night,"  announced 
Marie,  "  and  Tante  and  I  are  superintending  the 
slaves;  therefore  you  will  go  with  Uncle  Mike,  dear 
Doctorje,  and  then  you  must  tell  us  all  about  Georg- 
lana  and  the  poor  Governor.  Is  it  true,  that  after 
all  she  Is  to  be  engaged  to  Josias?  " 

Barry,  before  dressing  for  the  ball,  walked  down 
the  oak  avenue.  The  atmosphere  vibrated  with 
memories,  painful  and  Idyllic.  At  the  white-walled 
little  reservoir,  under  the  loquoat  trees,  he  sat  down, 
and  watched  some  slave  women  carrying  the  water 
for  the  household  use,  up  the  hill  through  the  woods 
surrounding  the  homestead. 

There  was  so  much  to  remember ! 

The  town,  lying  below,  had  grown,  and  was 
stretching  up  the  slopes  of  the  mountain,  and  people 
were  beginning  to  find  It  quite  convenient  to  reside 
on  the  False  Bay  side  of  the  mountain,  driving  In  by 
Cape-cart  (a  light  two-wheeled  vehicle.  Introduced 
by  the  Huguenots,  and  reminiscent  of  the  farm  carts 
of  Normandy),  or  by  the  more  humble  omnibus  that 
rattled  out  to  Wynberg  twice  a  day.     The   farm 


220  CAPE  CURREY 

lands  were  now  mostly  used  as  gardens  or  sufficiently 
cultivated  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  household  and 
the  cattle  and  horses. 

Steps  among  the  leaves  disturbed  Barry.  Dirk 
Zorn,  fatter  and  more  prosperous  than  ever, 
snatched  a  handful  of  the  yellow  loquoat  fruits  and 
slapped  a  great  hand  none  too  gently  on  Barry's 
shoulder. 

"  But,  man !  Doctorje !  You  here.  Now  what 
are  you  doing?  " 

Barry  wriggled  away  from  the  friendly  hand;  he 
had  never  regarded  Dirk  as  anything  but  something 
of  a  bore  and  a  fool. 

"  Mainly  indulging  in  an  inclination  to  do  noth- 
ing," he  replied. 

"  So?  "  Zorn  sat  down  on  the  stone  coping  and 
kicked  little  pieces  out  of  its  whitewashed  sides. 

"  Let  me  return  the  question  to  you,  being  an  in- 
quisitive," continued  Barry. 

''  Nix,"  said  Zorn,  relapsing  into  the  Dutch  of  the 
slaves,  now  becoming  the  usual  parlance  of  the 
Town. 

"  And  Aletta  ?  "  asked  Barry,  "  what  of  Aletta  ?  " 

A  tall,  beautiful  woman  sauntered  from  the  shade 
of  some  loquoat  trees,  with  all  the  lazy  indolent 
grace  that  one  associated  with  Aletta. 

*' Oh,   Doctor  James!   how  lovely  to  see  you. 


CAPE  CURREY  221 

Come  and  sit  by  me,  Doctor  James,  and  tell  me  the 
English  news." 

"  NIe,  nie,"  said  Michael,  who  followed  her, 
*'  Afterwards,  Aletta.  Doctorje  now  comes  with 
me.  You  must  go  and  dress  for  this  party:  a  queer 
girl,  this,  Doctorje;  will  not  bodder  wid  her  lovers." 

They  strolled  on  to  the  verandah. 

"  I  vow  that  there  must  be  some  special  attrac- 
tion round  Orangezicht  for  Aletta,"  said  the  Fis- 
cal's  lady,  "  I  can  never  get  her  into  the  town  these 
days;  whenever  I  send  to  enquire  for  her,  she  Is 
away  and  walking  alone.  Mark  you !  Alone ! 
With  Cadogan  and  Company  being  entertained  In  a 
most  half-hearted  fashion  by  Tante  and  Uncle  Mike, 
until  Miss  Aletta  condescends  to  re-appear." 

"  And  do  you  remember  the  mysterious  walled 
garden  and  the  homestead  called  Nooltgedacht? 
How  worried  every  one  was  to  discover  who  the 
tenant  was?  Now,  no  one  gives  it  a  thought.  All 
mysteries  seemed  cleared  up  and  uninteresting  after 
all  that  terribly  trying  time  of  the  Commission,  and 
the  Placards,  and  Edwards,  and  Burnett.  Ah,  dear 
me !  there  is  Tante  calling  me.  Aletta,  quick !  See, 
it  is  getting  late,  and  we  shall  be  having  guests  here 
before  we  are  ready." 

That  night,  by  nine  o'clock,  the  great  house  was 
all  laughter  and  dancing  and  eating  and  drinking. 


222  CAPE  CURREY 

Barry  was  surrounded  by  friends,  to  whose  Invita- 
tions he  promised  many  things  he  never  Imagined  to 
perform.  No  use  to  tell  these  people  that  In  a  few 
hours  a  "  bull-necked  beast  "  would  be  waiting  for 
him  with  every  Intention  to  slay. 

"  I  leave  almost  Immediately  for  India  '^ :  he  gave 
this  out  as  an  excuse  for  unaccepted  invitations  from 
Myberghs,  Vosses,  Cloetes,  Van  Rheenens  and  Eb- 
dens.  Mrs.  Crawford  with  her  three  quaintly  plain 
daughters,  affected  the  role  of  a  half-persuaded 
NIobe,  walled  over  the  presentation  of  each  girl  to 
Barry,  and  glowed  with  joy  when  he  told  her  how 
closely  Louisa  resembled  the  young  Princess  Vic- 
toria ;  It  gave  her  an  opening  for  expressing  her  ma- 
ternal opinion  which  was  for  ever  at  war  with  the 
NIobe  role.  Indeed,  her  daughters  danced  all  night 
and  ate  as  heartily  as  In  the  old  vineyard  days. 
They  had  contrived  to  make  excellent  matches,  Jane 
and  Augusta  marrying  sons  of  landowners;  Jane 
some  years  ago  had  married  the  Van  der  BIjl  suitor, 
and  Louisa  had  carried  off  a  prize  in  the  shape  of  an 
Irish  peer,  who  on  his  way  to  discover  India  had 
gone  to  the  Cathedral  to  pay  his  Irish  respects  at 
the  tomb  of  Sheridan;  poor  coughing  Tommy  Sher- 
idan! Louisa  as  a  child  had  worshipped  Sheridan, 
and  went  every  week  to  lay  an  offering  of  flowers  In 
the  barn-like  place  of  worship.  Here  she  met  the 
Irish  peer,  some  distant  relative,  on  his  way  home 


CAPE  CURREY  223 

from  India,  and  Mrs.  Crawford  said  she  could  never 
be  thankful  enough  that  Sheridan  was  buried  in  a 
dark  church  and  not  in  the  churchyard,  as  Louisa's 
features  (those  resembling  the  Princess  Victoria's) 
were  better  in  a  half  light. 

All  this  joy  and  gladness  of  re-seeing  old  faces 
added  more  and  more  to  the  gloom  of  Barry.  Pres- 
ently the  dancing  stopped,  and  coming  through  the 
open  windows  on  to  the  wide  white  verandah,  Barry 
found  Aletta,  in  her  full  dress  of  crimson  Indian  silk, 
with  one  white  camelia  in  her  dark  hair,  seated  at 
her  harp  and  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  admirers. 

She  sang  in  her  low  soft  voice,  a  little  English 
song,  with  a  refrain  after  each  verse  — 

"  Tho'  through  the  wide  world  we  should  range 
'Tis  in  vain  from  our  fortune  to  fly." 

The  Governor,  Sir  Lowry  Cole,  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  verandah,  whispered  to  Michael,  that  for- 
tune, in  a  red  coat,  seemed  to  hover  very  near;  and, 
indeed.  Captain  Cadogan  kept  as  near  Aletta  as  he 
dared. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Two  People  Hear  True  and  Curious  Things,  Trag- 
edies Happen,  also  the  Mystery  of  the  Motto 
Is  Explained 

A  great,  bright  star  shot  across  the  heavens  from 
the  South,  and  fell  behind  the  dark  rim  of  the  North 
mountains. 

This  seemed  the  only  sign  of  life  or  energy  left  on 
the  Peninsula.  The  vivid  moon  had  rifted  through 
her  covering  of  clouds  and  put  to  shame  the  little 
artificial  lights  down  below  in  the  town;  like  trem- 
bling slaves  to  time,  they  flashed  back  a  bright  re- 
ply to  the  moon's  challenge,  and  one  by  one  seemed 
to  sink  into  a  dark  sea.  A  faint  gray  rim  showed 
the  curve  of  the  Bay  —  like  the  edge  of  a  huge  blot 
of  dark  blue  ink,  curved,  then  going  off  into  a  nar- 
rower channel,  to  swell  interminable  floods  where  the 
Bay  ended  and  the  Atlantic  began. 

The  house  of  Orangezicht  lay  like  a  great  white 
dove,  brooding  in  her  nest  of  green,  above  the  dark- 
ness below.  A  pale  gray  moth,  big  as  a  bat,  drifted 
in  through  the  open  window,  softly  passive  as  a  bit 
of  moon  cloud,  until  it  neared  the  madness  of  the 

224 


CAPE  CURREY  225 

candle,  where,  Intoxicated  with  Its  own  desires,  It 
swept  through  the  flame,  and  lay  fluttering  on  the 
damask-covered  window  seat. 

Then  a  faint  breeze,  hot  from  the  warmth  of  the 
mountain,  stirred  the  big  magnolia  trees  that  framed 
the  moon,  and  spread  their  Intense  scent  over  the 
garden.  A  freakish  moonbeam  touched  several 
pale  gardenia  flowers,  till  they  shone  like  stars  turned 
Into  Ice.  Nature's  mood  seemed  so  ominous;  still 
passion,  suggesting  a  climax  to  come. 

Barry  stepped  through  the  window.  A  gray 
cloud  covered  the  Mountain. 

Barry  hated  the  Mountain  that  night.  It  seemed 
a  great  unconquerable  being,  wrapped  In  softness, 
hard  beneath;  a  Nemesis  of  Vengeance!  A  sym- 
bol of  Fate  to  those  who  defy  her;  crouching  high 
above  desire  and  ambition  of  man  or  woman,  the 
Overseer  of  Its  slaves. 

The  electrical  heaviness  of  the  atmosphere  played 
havoc  with  the  overstrained  nerves  of  Barry.  He 
flung  himself  to  the  warm  earth,  and  looked  with  ter- 
ror at  the  great,  watching  Mountain.  The  wind 
changed,  and  rustling  through  the  palms,  brought 
cold  mists  up  from  the  Bay.  The  dull,  desperate 
sense  of  Impending  mystery  and  emotion,  seemed 
fanned  Into  a  small  flame  of  restlessness;  every  leaf 
quivered!  The  dulled  clash  of  palm  leaves  stirred 
by  the  wind,  irritated.     He  got  up  and  walked  Into 


226  CAPE  CURREY 

the  house ;  the  heavy  scent  of  the  magnolias  sickened 
him.  Once  he  thought  he  saw  a  bright  shadow  flit 
across  the  grass  and  disappear  behind  a  myrtle 
hedge;  but  he  found  It  was  only  the  moon  at  her 
games  again;  a  moonbeam  catching  a  waving  palm 
leaf,  which  sent  its  reflection  flying  like  a  gray  wraith 
into  the  shrubs. 

He  took  up  a  book  and  tried  to  read,  but  the  rest- 
less feeling  remained,  and  he  found  he  had  read 
pages  without  remembering  one  word.  Nooitge- 
dacht!  Nooitgedacht !  Was  It  his  heart  beating 
so  loudly  that  it  turned  the  silence  of  the  room  into 
throbbing  sound?  Was  he  saying  this  word  over 
and  over  again  ?  There  was  something  tapping,  tap- 
ping for  admittance  to  his  brain,  or  was  It  only  the 
hammering  of  his  heart?  Nooitgedacht?  The 
magnetic  house  which  kept  him  In  Cape  Town,  and 
drew  him  there  from  all  parts  of  the  world  I  It  was 
as  if  his  secret  craved  to  be  told  —  this  was  the  tap- 
ping, maybe.  The  secret  so  long  and  carefully 
guarded  was  bursting  his  brain  —  or  no !  Was 
there  something  wrong  in  the  white  house  with  the 
high  wall  ? 

Tortured  by  premonitions  he  was  aware  of  no 
conscious  decision. 

"  There  Is  no  pain,  passion,  or  emotion,  capable 
of  hurting  me;  life  cannot  hold  any  further  obstacle 
I  am  not  able  to  conquer.  ..."     As  a  long-learnt 


CAPE  CURREY  227 

lesson  these  words  were  repeated  again  and  again, 
with  no  calming  effect. 

As  in  a  dream  Barry  reached  the  little  door  in  the 
wall,  unlocked  the  gate  and  passed  into  the  moonlit 
garden.  Low  whispering  voices  from  the  laurel 
bushes  travelled  clearly  in  the  night  air!  Barry's 
brain  reeled  and  he  fell  against  the  wall.  With  an 
effort  he  forced  his  mind  to  grasp  the  meaning  of  the 
whispered  words.  Silhouetted  by  the  moonlight, 
was  a  tall  young  man,  with  his  body  pressed  against 
the  wall.  In  the  wall  was  a  gaping  irregular 
hole,  where  bricks  and  plaster  had  been  roughly 
parted. 

The  voices  were  low  and  desperate  with  passion; 
one  was  the  heavy,  deep  voice  of  a  woman.  That 
they  had  met  like  this  for  weeks  penetrated  into 
Barry's  brain  —  this  hermit  boy  and  the  woman  who 
pleaded  for  admittance. 

"  Ah  yes,  you  must  come  —  must  come,"  and  the 
boy  was  tearing  with  bleeding  hands  at  the  jagged 
hole  in  the  wall. 

Something  crimson  showed  —  Aletta's  crimson 
silk  gown  —  Aletta's  slim  body  was  crushing 
through. 

Old  Majuba's  unsteady  feet  could  just  obey  his 
faithful  brain.  He  heard  nothing,  but  saw  the  fig- 
ures In  the  moonlight.  Barry,  paralyzed,  seeing  all 
the  scheme  of  years  pulled  to  bits,  watched,  fasci- 


228  CAPE  CURREY 

nated,  the  awful  pale  desire  In  the  boy's  face,  the  ra- 
diance of  Aletta  as  she  stood  before  him.  .  .  .  The 
boy  stood  up  like  a  god,  with  arms  flung  to  the 
heavens; 

"  My  woman,  my  woman — "  he  shouted. 

Majuba's  unsteady  old  hand  fired  the  pistol  that 
was  to  kill  the  creature  who  had  done  this  wrong. 
From  the  far  terrace  he  came  hurrying  towards 
Tragedy  .  .  .  but  too  far  .  .  .  they  were  almost 
in  each  other's  arms.  The  noise  of  the  firing  re- 
leased the  horrified  Barry;  he  saw  the  boy  fall:  he 
fell  sideways  with  one  hand  In  the  red  of  Aletta's 
dress. 

All  the  agony  of  years  escaped  In  torrents  af 
words. 

*' Damn  you  ...  oh!  damn  you!"  Barry 
cursed  the  terrified,  pale  girl. 

Then  the  shrill  voice  broke :  Barry  was  on  the 
grass  beside  the  long,  still  body. 

"Ah,  my  darling,  my  darling!  you  have  killed 
him,  oh  God !     You've  killed  my  child !  " 

Barry  was  pulling  away  at  the  soft  shirt  and  stock 
at  the  boy's  neck.  Old  Majuba  lay  at  the  boy's 
feet,  his  face  hidden. 

Aletta,  numbed  and  horrified,  sought  vainly  for 
consecutive  ideas  —  some  half  remembered  words 
chased  through  her  brain,  "  And  the  flesh  was  the 
flesh  of  a  leper,  white  as  snow " 


CAPE  CURREY  229 

*'  Stop.  Oh  stop !  "  The  blood  rushed  to  her 
face.     She  pushed  aside  the  Httle  surgeon. 

"  This  is  my  Love,  this  is  my  Love,"  she  cried, 
kneehng  as  if  she  would  kiss  the  boy's  lips. 

Then  Barry:  "  You  fool,  you  little  fool,  do  not 
touch  him.  See!  Now,  you  understand!  Look! 
Yes,  look!  He  is  a  leper  —  my  son  was  a  leper. 
Oh  !  God,  oh !  "  Barry  w^as  moaning  on  the  ground 
beside  the  body,  moaning  like  a  woman. 

Then  the  enormity  of  it  all  burst  upon  Aletta. 
What  had  he  been  saying?  He  was  mad  —  she  was 
mad!  —  the  whole  awful  affair  —  the  terrible  con- 
tinuous moaning, —  and  the  white  flesh  shining  like 
silver  in  this  dreadful  scented  garden.   .   .   . 

Hours  afterwards  Barry  found  her,  stiff  with 
cold  and  unshed  tears,  lying  in  some  laurel  bushes 
near  the  little  door  in  the  wall. 

Barry  was  panting  and  deadly  white. 

"  I'm  monstrous  sorry,  m'dear:  I  wish  you  would 
be  gentle;  don't  look  scared  like  that,  m'dear;  I'm 
tired,  so  tired.  Try  and  understand  me.  If  he  had 
kissed  you!  Aletta,  think!  Just  think!  I  could 
not  have  reached  you  In  time  —  and  afterwards !  — 
What  a  life  for  him ! 

"  I  hoped  to  keep  him  safe  behind  these  walls. 
The  slaves  were  silent  enough,  God  knows,  all  of 
'em  silent  —  little  Adonis  though  —  ah  yes,  I  forgot 


230  CAPE  CURREY 

—  there  was  little  Adonis.  No  one  guessed." 
(Aletta  shivered.)  "  People  wondered,  that  was 
all.  I  have  had  this  awful  sorrow,  Aletta,  for  many 
years.  I  had  to  forget  sometimes.  I  had  to  work. 
My  beautiful  child  a  leper  —  oh,  the  horror !  Poor 
old  Majuba.     He  meant  to  guard  him  so  well." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments.  Aletta 
watched  the  vivid  dawn  lights  flash  across  the  Isth- 
mus on  to  the  Mountain.  Then  Barry's  tired  voice 
continued : 

"  I  have  told  no  other  soul  of  this :  I  only  tell  you 
because  you  will  carry  In  your  heart,  as  I  have  car- 
ried In  mine,  a  great  sorrow  that  no  one  shall  ever 
know."  His  voice  hardened,  rasped.  "  You  hear, 
girl  —  that  no  one  shall  ever  know.  Pm  sick  of 
it  all;  it  must  go  on,  that's  the  pity  of  it  all;  it  must 
go  on.  Here  is  the  key,  Aletta,  go  home;  say  I  had 
to  leave  early  —  anything  will  do.  You've  been  a 
fool,  Aletta ;  good-by." 

Aletta  jumped  up. 

The  sun  was  In  the  garden,  and  the  sun  made 
everything  possible.  As  she  reached  the  little  gate, 
Barry  called  after  her. 

"  Find  Adonis !  Find  the  slaves.  Tell  them  to 
come  to  me." 

But  Aletta  left  the  garden.  She  feared  the  awful, 
shining  skin  of  that  dead  boy,  the  horror  of  what 
she  had  been  saved  from  seared,  white,  through  her 


CAPE  CURREY  231 

whole  being.  Love  and  Passion  and  Beauty  —  and 
a  Leper's  Skin  all  round  it !  And  the  garden  wall 
which,  between  them,  they  had  broken  down.  Ah  I 
But  Love  was  always  horrible :  she  had  known  it 
from  the  days  when  Dirk's  fat  hands  had  held  her 
captive  for  his  kisses.  She  looked  and  saw  her  own 
hands  red,  to  match  her  red  dress  and  her  red  flow- 
ers. Horrible  I  She  had,  perhaps,  touched  his 
body. 

In  the  cold  morning  she  passed  through  the  Oran- 
gezicht  woods.  Once  she  stopped.  Other  sounds 
were  coming  from  the  walled  garden:  the  sounds 
which  dumb  men  make  when  they  cry.  She  shut 
out  the  noise,  and  with  her  hands  over  her  ears  ran 
terrified  across  the  little  bridge. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

An  Unfortunate  "  Sottise  " 

Major  Cloete  Suffers  a  Great  Shock,  after  a 

Duel,  Which  Is  Fought  Behind  the 

Amsterdam  Battery 

At  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  six  o'clock,  Major 
Cloete's  orderly  brought  his  horse  round  to  the  door 
of  his  Castle  quarters.  It  had  taken  the  efforts  of 
several  subalterns  and  their  orderlies  to  rouse  Clo- 
ete. The  only  occasions  on  which  Josias  rose  up 
willingly,  were  the  days  when  he  hunted  across  the 
Cape  Flats,  and  the  welcomed  morning  when  he 
shook  off  the  dull  earth  of  the  island  of  Tristan 
d'Acunah  and  sailed  for  the  mainland. 

The  Castle  only  knew  that  Major  Cloete,  for  his 
own  good  reasons,  wished  to  be  up  and  dressed  by 
five,  although  he  had  been  dancing  as  late  as  mid- 
night or  past.  Therefore,  the  efforts  in  that  direc- 
tion were  commenced  at  four-thirty.  By  five,  two 
Captains  and  an  orderly  had  to  retire  wth  disfigure- 
ments and  one  fairly  serious  wound.  By  half  past 
five,  a  subaltern,  nursing  a  bleeding  nose,  fell  very 
suddenly  through  the  open  door,  on  to  a  miscellan- 
eous collection  of  alarm  clocks,  wet  sponges,  razor 

222 


CAPE  CURREY  233 

strops  and  burnt  feathers.  The  affair  was  not  con- 
ducted without  many  strange  noises,  interspersed 
with  curses  and  oaths;  but,  by  a  quarter  to  six,  the 
result,  in  the  shape  of  Josias,  was  clattering  down  the 
stairs  into  the  courtyard,  to  his  waiting  horse,  two 
orderlies  fastening  up  various  straps  and  buttons 
as  he  descended.  His  orderly  passed  him  a  letter 
.  .  .  "  Came  by  yesterday's  mail,  sir."  Hardly 
glancing  at  it,  he  crushed  it  Into  his  breast  pocket  and 
mounted. 

He  trotted  his  mare  across  the  "  Parade,"  where 
the  sun's  rays  were  so  strong  that  he  crossed  the 
Square  and  rode  along  the  city  side,  in  the  shade  of 
the  twisted  fir  trees,  whose  heads  were  perpetually 
bowed  before  the  violence  of  the  south-east  winds 
that  gave  the  name  of  the  ''  funnel  "  to  that  part  of 
the  Town.  Arrived  at  the  Waterkant,  he  rode 
along  the  sea  front,  past  Rogge  Bay,  where  the 
morning  had  brought  in  the  fishing  boats  from  a 
wind-swept  night  off  Robben  Island. 

As  he  neared  "  Green  Point,"  the  Amsterdam 
Battery  barred  his  path.  He  tied  his  horse  to  a 
low  mimosa  tree  and  stalked  over  the  Downs,  to  the 
spot,  sheltered  by  the  South  side  of  the  Fort  and 
some  protea  shrub. 

An  arm  of  the  Bay,  like  a  narrow  backwater, 
curved  into  the  green  Downs.  A  boat  was  rowed 
carefully  into   its   seclusive   waters,   and   two   men 


234  CAPE  CURREY 

jumped  ashore.  Josias,  standing  like  some  martial 
monumental  figure  against  the  sky-line,  watched  pas- 
sively the  two  men. 

"  The  bull-necked  bounder,"  he  snorted,  "  a  damn 
uncomfortable  match  for  Barry." 

Minutes  passed. 

Josias  pulled  out  a  flask  and  put  it  to  his  mouth. 

Waiting,  he  remembered  his  letter.  In  his  haste 
to  keep  the  duel  appointment,  he  had  not  even  noticed 
the  handwriting  and  address.  Now  he  saw  that  it 
was  from  Georgiana.  Still,  he  opened  it  calmly; 
she  had  written  to  him  on  several  occasions.  Sud- 
denly, reading,  he  trembled  .  .  .  dear  little  sweet 
lady  .  .  .  what  did  she  mean?  ...  an  amazing 
piece  of  indiscretion. 

"  Dec. 

"  St.  James'  Square,  London. 
"  Dear  Josias,  Major  Cloete, 

"In  the  days  long  ago,  when  we  were  all  rather  unhappy, 
you  told  me  you  loved  me.  In  these  days  when  I  am  very 
unhappy  I  ask  if  you  still  do  so.  Pray,  dear  Major  Cloete, 
do  not  say  yes,  for  fear  of  hurting  me,  for  it  would  only  be  a 
bit  of  my  heart  that  would  suffer.  I  think  some  of  the  other 
pieces  are  somewhere  in  your  dear  land  .  .  .  left  behind  with 
the  sun,  among  the  silver  trees.  This  other  piece  of  heart  is 
very  lonely.     I  could  weep. 

"  Your  sincere  friend, 

"  Georgiana  Somerset." 

"•  Pretty  darling,"  he  muttered  ..."  little  bits 


CAPE  CURREY  235 

of  her  heart  .  .  .  damned  If  we  don't  collect  them 
together.  No  fine  St.  James'  house,  milady  —  no 
dollars,  but  there  Is  sun,  my  sweet," —  he  glanced  up 
at  the  world  from  this  wonderful  glorious  scrap  of 
paper.  "  No,  by  my  life,  there  is  no  sun  and  It's 
damn  chlllsome,  and  where  the  devil  is  Barry?  Get 
this  silly  business  over,  and  then  to  write  to  my  lady; 
of  course  there  will  be  sun  and  —  and  little  bits  of 
heart." 

More  minutes  passed. 

The  bull-necked  one  became  impatient.  An- 
other small  boat  danced  silently  into  the  little  Bay. 
Josias  saw  Black  Jan  and  the  fat  spaniel,  Psyche,  In 
the  bows. 

Suddenly  the  sun  was  covered  by  clouds  that 
seemed  to  burst,  in  dark  gray  masses,  from  the  blue 
heavens;  a  hot  blast  of  wind  blew  Josias'  sword 
hard  against  his  leg;  the  wind  seemed  to  start  low, 
and  then  to  rise  to  the  clouds,  collected  them  with 
fresh  puffs  and  gusts,  herded  them  together,  and 
chased  them,  mass  after  mass,  flying  helter  skelter 
before  his  voice  across  the  Bay.  The  clouds  seemed 
to  call  up  reinforcements.  Miraculously  they  ap- 
peared to  congregate  behind  Table  Mountain,  and 
then  sweep  over,  to  descend  like  an  Interminable 
white  cascade  of  down  and  softness,  they  were  hur- 
ried and  driven  to  join  the  others,  rushing  Into  the 
horizon.     Some,  reluctant  to  start  their  long  journey 


236  CAPE  CURREY 

across  the  seas,  hung  back,  making  dark  patches 
along  the  Downs;  the  little  boats  fretted  among  the 
angry  waves  that  dashed  into  the  narrow  opening  of 
the  Httle  Bay  of  the  Fort. 

Josias  pulled  his  great  military  coat  up  to  his 
ears,  and  buttoned  it  close,  more  to  keep  the  sand 
and  dust  from  his  eyes  and  ears,  than  for  any  other 
reason.  He  damned  Barry  loudly  and  long.  He 
re-read  his  letter.  This  only  accentuated  his  impa- 
tience. 

It  was  now  past  half-past  six. 

The  bull-necked  one  was  chuckling  over  a  blood- 
less victory,  when  a  white-roofed  cab  appeared,  with 
its  Malay  driver  having  a  mighty  hard  time  to  hold 
on  to  his  bee-hive  straw  hat,  its  ribbons  flapping  into 
his  eyes. 

There  was  just  half  an  hour  before  the  ship  sailed. 

Josias  saw  the  emaciated  little  form  of  Barry 
stumbling  along  the  rough  ground  round  the  Fort. 
He  seemed  thinner,  and  as  Josias  saw  his  face  he 
yelled:  "  By  Jehosophat,  you  are  ill,  man!  Not  fit 
to  fight!  What  is  it?  What  is  it,  James?  "  His 
voice  grew  almost  tender. 

"  Do  not  waste  time,  Josias." 

Cloete  followed  him  in  horrified  silence,  as  he 
groped  and  stumbled  across  the  Downs  to  the  little 
Bay. 


CAPE  CURREY  237 

Barry  seemed  scarcely  able  to  stand,  his  breath 
coming  In  quick  pants.  Joslas  wondered  for  one 
second  If  it  might  be  fright  —  a  reason  out  of  keep- 
ing with  Barry's  nature:  but  he  felt  It  wanted  more 
than  fright  to  account  for  this  wreck  of  his  little 
surgeon. 

They  paced  off  the  distance,  while  Josias  grum- 
bled none  too  softly  of  murder,  and  the  bull-necked 
one's  second  whispered  into  the  ear  of  his  friend. 

Joslas  placed  the  pistol  in  Barry's  hand.  It  was 
icy  cold  and  trembled. 

Another  blinding  gust  of  wind  veiled  the  world. 

Josias  closed  his  eyes. 

The  bull-necked  murderer  raised  his  arm. 

But  no  shots  were  fired.  Barry  lurched  forward 
and  fell  on  his  face. 

"  Fainted,"  sniffed  the  other  second,  and  he  and 
the  bull-necked  one  strutted  off  to  the  George  Inn 
In  the  town. 

Joslas  bent  over  Barry  and  turned  the  thin  body 
round;  he  pulled  off  the  tight  high  stock  and  opened 
the  coat  and  vest.  To  his  amazement,  he  found  a 
towel  of  coarse  linen  wrapped  round  the  body,  be- 
neath It  another  towel  —  again  another  —  then  he 
sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  God  In  Heaven,  it's  a  ivoman! '' 

The  figure  at  his  feet  stirred  and  shivered. 


238  CAPE  CURREY 

Josias  knelt  down  and  replaced  the  towels  with 
big  trembling  fingers.     Then  —  the  still  grumbling 

familiar    voice "Damned    impertinence,     sir! 

What  the  devil  are  you?  Ah,  Josias,  I'm  tired, 
monstrously  tired.  So  you  know  now,  Josias.  On 
your  honor,  swear,  on  your  honor,  no  word  of  it. 
Get  me  on  board,  Josias.  I  am  finished  with  the 
Cape  now.  I  have  often  been  astonished  that  you 
did  not  guess  this  before,  Josias,  that  day  of  our 
duel.     Poor  Charles  Henry  I  '* 

Barry  turned  feebly,  and  Cloete  propped  the  thin 
little  creature  against  his  knee.  The  tired  faint 
voice  went  on : 

"  It  is  true,  that  gossip  of  Lord  Kinsey,  my  father. 
Oh !  yes,  Charles  Henry  knew  —  only  he  —  he  knew 
the  man  I  loved  too.  I  followed  that  man,  Josias, 
old  dear,  all  over  the  world  .  .  .  and  home ;  no,  not 
even  Black  Jan  knows.  Funny  story,  is  it  not,  Josias 
—  and  the  towels?     Yes!  six  of  'em.     I'm  thinner 

than  you  think 1  always  wrapped  them  round 

me, monstrously     unpleasant     things,     Josias. 

You  see,  Josias,  I  wanted  to  forget  some  things,  and 
I  wanted  —  had  to  —  work:  but  I  must  go  on, 
though  I'm  damn  tired,  Josias.  .  .  ."  The  voice 
was  almost  too  faint  to  be  heard.  "  I  must  trust 
your  silence  in  this  whole  affair." 

Major  Josias  Cloete,  six  feet  three  and  a  dragoon, 
with  big  tears  racing  down  his  florid  cheeks,  stood 


CAPE  CURREY  239 

up,  squared  his  shoulders,  then  stooped,  tenderly 
picked  up  the  thin  body  of  the  Inspector  General  of 
His  Majesty's  hospitals,  and  walked  down  to  the 
waiting  boat. 


THE  END 


THE    LIGHT    HEART 

By   Maurice  Hewlett.     $2.00. 

Hewlett  has  never  done  anything  more  brilhant  than 
this  northern  story  of  adventure  in  which  the  epic  starkness 
of  the  plot,  drawn  from  the  Iceland  sagas,  is  softened  by  the 
humanity  of  a  gentler  day.  The  result  is  a  surprising  com- 
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seldom  to  be  matched  in  literature. 

THE    BLACK    KNIGHT 

By  Mrs.  Alfred  Sidgwick  and  Crosbie  Garstin.    $2.00. 

A  young  Englishman  is  involved  in  the  financial  ruin  and 
disgrace  of  his  father,  and  emigrates  to  Western  Canada. 
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TRUE    LOVE 

By  Allan  Monkhouse,  Literary  Editor  of  the  Manchester 
Guardian.    $1.75. 

This  novel  deals  with  the  spiritual  struggles  of  a  young 
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No  more  gallant  struggle  was  ever  made,  and  Monkhouse's 
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Manchester  is  of  particular  interest. 

CAPE  CURREY 

By  Rene  Juta.     $1.75. 

This  remarkable  historical  novel,  which  is  also  a  first  novel, 
tells  one  of  the  strangest  stories  which  has  seen  the  light,  even 
in  these  wonder-loving  days.  Many  of  the  characters  have 
descendants  playing  their  parts  now  on  the  British  imperial 
stage.  But  the  strange  figure  of  Dr.  James  Barry  has  only 
old  wives'  tales  and  this  novel  for  memorial.  The  mysterious 
garden  is  likewise  no  fiction.  Sir  Charles  Somerset  being 
credited  with  the  foundation  of  the  first  of  its  kind  in  the 
Cape  Province. 

HENRY       HOLT       AND      COMPANY 
19  W.  44TH  St.  (iii  '20)  NEW  YORK 


COLAS  BREUGNON    Burgundian 

By  ROMAIN   ROLLAND 
Author  of  "JEAN-CHRISTOPHE."    $i.7S- 

The  phrase,  "  there  is  life  in  the  old  dog  yet,"  is  the  keynote  of  this 
romance  of  a  buoyant,  plainspoken  Burgundian  in  the  little  town  of 
Clamecy  and  the  days  of  Marie  de  Medici.  Colas  is  the  embodied 
artistry,  humor  and  courage  of  France. 

Bookman:  "To  live  in  the  company  of  Breugnon  is  a  tonic." 

Review:  "Seven  or  eight  hours  of  delight.  .  .  .  Life  in  its  totality, 
teeming  and  varied,  justified  and  glorious." 

Nation :  It   "  flows  with   sparkling  Burgundy." 

New  York  Sun:  It  is  "  so  good  that  we  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to 
do  it  justice   .    .    .   the  very  tonic  the  world  now  needs." 

New  York  Evening  Post:  "  Playful,  tender,  light-spirited  and  yet 
penetrating." 

Boston  Transcript:  "A  character  worth  remembering." 

Chicago  Tribune:  "  Superior  to  anything  Rolland  has  done/* 

Philadelphia  Evening  Ledger:  "  Intensely  human." 


THE  OLD  MADHOUSE 

By  WILLIAM  DE  MORGAN 

Author  of  ••  JOSEPH  VANCE."  -  SOMEHOW  GOOD."  etc.    $1.90 

The  mystery  of  Dr.  Cartaret's  complete  disappearance,  told  with 
De  Morgan's  delightful  characters,  constant  quiet  humor  and  brave, 
clean  view  of  life. 

New  York  Times'  Review:  "A  peculiar  homage  .  .  .  perhaps  no 
English-writing  novelist  since  the  days  of  Dickens  and  Thackeray  has 
won  it  as  he  has  .  .  .  full  of  all  the  things  his  admirers  love  a 
De  Morgan  novel  for  .  .  .  the  mystery  of  Dr.  Cartaret's  disappearance 
enthralls  the  reader." 

New  York  Evening  Post:  "The  absorbing  progress  of  the  story  .  .  . 
all  these  people  really  live  .  .  .  what  may  be  called  the  moral  force  of 
the  novel  is  great." 

Atlantic  Monthly:  "No  English  writer  in  this  century  has  done  so 
much  to  take  the  novel  away  from  the  dilettanti  and  give  it  back  to  the 
public." 

New  York  Evening  Sun:  "  He  possesses  the  true  magic  of  *  the  spell 
of  the  teller  of  tales.'  " 


HENRY       HOLT      AND       COMPANY 

19  W.  44  ST.  (II  'ao)  NEW   YORK 


THE  NEW  POETRY 


CHICAGO  POEMS 

By  Carl  Sandburg.    $i-35  net. 

In  his  ability  to  concentrate  a  whole  story  or  picture  or 
character  within  the  compass  of  a  few  lines,  Mr.  Sand- 
burg's work  compares  favorably  with  the  best  achieve- 
ments of  the  recent  successful  American  poets.  It  is, 
however,  distinguished  by  its  trenchant  note  of  social 
criticism  and  by  its  vision  of  a  better  social  order. 

NORTH  OF  BOSTON 
By  Robert  Frost.    6//z  printing,  $1.30  net. 

"The  first  poet  for  half  a  century  to  express  New  England 
life  completely  with  a  fresh,  original  and  appealing  way  of  his 
own." — Boston  Transcript. 

"An  authentic  original  voice  in  literature." — Atlantic 
Monthly. 

A  BOY'S  WILL 

By  Robert  Frost.   3rd  printing,  $1.00  net. 
Mr.  Frost's  first  volume  of  poetry. 

"We  have  read  every  line  with  that  amazement  and  delight 
which  are  too  seldom  evoked  by  books  of  modern  verse." — 
The  Academy  {London). 

THE  LISTENERS 

By  Walter  De  La  Mare.    $1.35  net. 

Mr.  De  la  Mare  expresses  with  undeniable  beauty  of 
verse  those  things  a  little  bit  beyond  our  ken  and  con- 
sciousness, and,  as  well,  our  subtlest  reactions  to  nature 
and  to  life. 

" AND   OTHER   POETS'* 

By  Louis  Untermeyer.     $1.25  net. 

Mirth  and  thought-provoking  parodies,  by  the  author 
of  "Challenge,"  of  such  modern  Parnassians  as  Mase- 
field,  Frost,  Masters,  Yeats,  Amy  Lowell,  Noyes,  Dob- 
son  and  *T.  P.  A," 

HENRY      HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 


THE  TURN  OF  THE  TIDE 

Fully  illustrated  with  original  maps  and  sketches 

By  Lieut-Col.   JENNINGS   C.  WISE,  author  of  "The  Long  Arm  of 
Lee."  "  Gunnery,"  "  Empire  and  Armament."  etc.,  etg.    $2.00 

To  what  extent  were  the  great  German  reverses  of  the  summer  of 
191 8  due  to  American  military  prowess?  What  were  Cantigny  and 
Qiateau-Thierry  from  the  military  standpoint?  And  how  much  help 
did  Foch  get  from  the  Americans  at  the  Second  Marne?  Such  are 
the  questions  to  answer  which  Colonel  Wise  has  written  the  "  Turn  of 
the  Tide."  Fresh  from  France  and  the  Historical  Section  of  the 
General  Staff  at  Chaurnont,  Colonel  Wise  is  the  first  writer  to  return  to 
this  country  fully  equipped  to  discuss  with  authority  our  share  in  the 
war  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  battalion  commander  who  saw  much 
action  and  as  an  Army  Historian. 

FIRST  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE 
CAMPAIGN  OF  1918 

By  R.  M.    JOHNSTON,  author  of  "The  French  Revolution."  "Leading 
American  Soldiers,"  "  Napoleon,"  etc,    $1.50. 

In  undertaking  to  offer  constructive  criticism  of  our  combat  army 
in  France,  Major  Johnston  does  not  speak  without  authority.  He  was 
attached  to  the  General  Staff  at  Pershing's  Headquarters  for  twelve 
months  or  more.  During  this  period  he  made  a  number  of  intimate 
visits  to  the  active  fronts,  and  was  also  special  envoy  to  Paris  and 
London  on  one  occasion.  Thus  he  was  able  to  get  a  perspective  on  the 
activities  of  our  war  machine  without  being  detached  from  it  and 
without  a  sacrifice  of  the  detailed  knowledge  which  comes  from  per- 
sonal contact.  He  sees  the  war  whole  and  retains  an  unusual  breadth 
of  point  of  view. 

''  SIMSADUS-LONDON  " 

AT  U.    S.   NAVAL   HEADQUARTERS   ABROAD 

By  J.  L.   LEIGHTON.    With   numerous  illustrations  from  actual  photo- 
graphs, and  picture  jacket.    $4.00. 

The  facts  and  information  offered  in  this  book  have  a  most  opportune 
interest  as  they  throw  light  on  the  Naval  affairs  now  receiving  so  much 
public  and  official  attention.  The  author's  close  personal  contact  with 
conditions  at  the  various  Naval  bases,  his  relations  with  the  staff  in 
London  and  his  active  service  on  the  ships  of  which  he  writes,  vouch 
for  the  authenticity  of  his  work. 

ARMY   MENTAL  TESTS 

By  CLARENCE  S.  YOAKUM  and  ROBERT  M.  YERKES.  of  the 
National  Research  Council.     Illustrated.    $1.50. 

Authorized  by  the  War  Department,  this  book  provides  for  business 
men  an  account  of  a  great  achievement  in  scientific  management  whereby 
the  United  States,  employing  suddenly  four  million  soldiers,  found  the 
right  men   for  the  right  places. 

HENRY        HOLT       AND       COMPANY 

19  W.  44  St.  (II  '20)  NEW   YORK 


AT    FAME'S   GATEWAY 

THE   ROMANCE   OF   A    PIANISTE 

By  Jennie  Irene  Mix.     $175. 

An  often  humorous  story  of  the  adventures  of  a  beautiful 
American  girl  from  an  oil-boom  town,  in  search  of  musical 
fame  in  New  York,  where  she  meets  interesting  people  in 
musical  and  Bohemian  circles,  including  the  great  teacher 
Brandt  (who  hides  a  secret),  his  masterful  Bohemian  house- 
keeper, Novak  a  fascinating  violinist,  and  Stanhope,  a  very 
dependable  novelist.  The  viewpoint  throughout  is  fresh,  and 
the  outcome  cannot  be  foreseen  by  the  reader,  especially  as  to 
how  the  heroine  will  succeed  in  both  love  and  music.  The 
characters  are  an  unusually  likable  lot,  not  the  amorous 
freaks  that  novelists  have  too  often  pictured  musicians  as 
being. 

THE    GIRL  FROM    FOUR   CORNERS 

A    CALIFORNIA    ROMANCE 

By  Rebecca  N.  Porter.    $1.75. 

An  inspiring  story  of  a  girl's  struggle  between  the  evil  in- 
fluence of  her  father  and  the  benign  one  of  her  mother,  told 
in  action,  which  contains  much  of  the  unexpected.  We  begin 
with  Fredrica's  girlhood  on  a  lonely  ranch.  Later,  still  alone, 
she  faces  the  vicissitudes  of  San  Francisco.  The  gaiety  of 
that  metropolis  is  well  indicated.  Strange  to  say,  the  heroine 
comes  the  nearest  to  disaster  from  pity  for  one  who  needs 
her. 

THE   UNCENSORED    LETTERS 
OF  A   CANTEEN   GIRL 

ANONYMOUS  $2.00 

The  only  book  of  its  kind  so  far  produced  by  the  Great 
War.  A  remarkably  sympathetic  and  fresh  account  of 
A.  E.  F.  happenings  by  an  unpracticed  writer.  She  gives  us 
the  ingenuous  joys  and  sorrows,  the  jokes,  squabbles  and 
loves  of  our  own  great-hearted  Yanks,  mostly  when  they 
were  not  fighting  but  occasionally  when  they  were.  Her 
understanding  both  of  officers  and  men  seems  equally  clear 
and  sympathetic. 

HENRY       HOLT      AND       COMPANY 

19    W.    44TU    ST.  (ii  '20)  NEW  YORK 


•y./  'y 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


